


In the Spirit

by sesheta_66



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 29,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesheta_66/pseuds/sesheta_66
Summary: Harry had a rough Christmas last year, to say the least.  But things are looking up this year, and he plans to embrace the season, even if he is still single.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry stepped out of the Floo – he still preferred it to the squeezing feeling of apparition – and brushed himself off. On the floor were two envelopes that looked suspiciously like Christmas cards. He grinned as he picked them up, looking forward to the season this year. Merlin knew it had to be better than last year.

Tossing the cards on the table while he went about making a strong cup of tea, his thoughts drifted back to a year previous. He’d split up with Ginny a week earlier in spectacular fashion. They hadn’t meant for things to escalate, certainly he hadn’t, but escalate they had. As was the case in Harry’s very public life, there had always been someone right there, listening and watching. Add to that Ginny’s popularity on the Holyhead Harpies and, well, they ought to have known better.

The moment, they reflected later – much later, when they’d finally managed to speak to each other again – had been the culmination of a months-long build-up in which both of them had clung steadfastly to their denial, even if said denial was being worn away a little at a time.

They’d been in a run-of-the-mill store in Muggle London, of all places, to pick up a few things when a firefighters’ calendar had proved to be Harry’s undoing. To raise money for a children’s charity over Christmas, a team of French firefighters had stripped down to their skivvies – and in a couple of pictures, even less – and Harry hadn’t been able to look away. Ginny had, he’d thought, been a few aisles over, but as he’d continued to stare at the pictures, all manner of inappropriate thoughts bouncing around in his head, she’d sneaked up on him.

"Whatcha got there?" she’d asked as she snatched the calendar from his grip. The icy chill that had descended upon him at being caught had done nothing to cool his burning face, and from the daggers she’d shot him, Ginny hadn’t missed a thing.

"French?" she’d gasped, clearly at a loss for anything else to say. He’d stupidly laughed at the absurdity of her comment. _I mean really. That was what she’d focussed on?_ He’d tried to cover with a cough, but the damage had been done.

She hadn’t laughed. Months later, yes, over a bottle or three of wine when they’d finally talked things through. At the time, however, she’d simply pressed the calendar against his chest and said, "Maybe you should spend Christmas in Paris this year." And she’d left.

He hadn’t seen nor heard from her for months after that. And, after reading the write-up in the papers the next day, Ron hadn’t spoken to him either. Harry had already been promoted to team lead of a new group of recruits, so they were no longer partners, but still. The tension in the Auror Department had been thick enough to cut with a knife. 

The Prophet, Witch Weekly and Quidditch Quarterly had run multiple articles each, sure to keep the story alive for maximum value. Harry Potter was gay and had broken Ginevra Weasley’s heart. The golden couple was no more, and could this be the beginning of the end for him? Everything from his career to his favourite foods were analysed to death. They’d speculated about his past relationships with Dumbledore, Ron and even Kingsley, suggesting he’d only achieved what he had by ... well.

The continued press coverage had driven him into seclusion whenever he wasn’t at work. Oddly enough, however, his work hadn’t suffered. In fact, several closeted Aurors – male and female – had approached him and thanked him, as though he’d intentionally put the story out there. Robards and Kingsley had been supportive and eventually the whole thing had blown over.

But Christmas had been awful. Unable and unwilling to go to the Burrow, not to mention unwelcome, and with the overlap in his and Ginny’s friends, he’d spent the better part of the holidays at Grimmauld Place, alone. It had been the only escape from not just the public scrutiny but the endless barrage of sad Christmas songs that served to reinforce his newly single state. Unable to stop the flood, memories of Sirius had hit him from every corner and filled his days, plummeting him further into a state of, if not depression, something akin to it. He hadn’t felt that alone since he’d been locked in his cupboard under the stairs as a little boy.

Shaking off that memory, Harry added a splash of milk to his tea, grabbed some biscuits from the cupboard and sat down at the table. He scooped up the cards and recognised the writing at once. He opened Hermione and Ron’s card first, pleased to see the smiling family in Santa hats waving at him from the cover. Even little Rose gave him a gummy grin. Once more his chest ached at the lost time.

He hesitated opening the second card, clearly from Ginny. They remained on tenuous grounds, and he wasn’t sure what to expect. When at last he drew the card from the envelope, he laughed out loud, glad he hadn’t had a mouth full of tea. On the front was a man – a gorgeous man – wearing nothing but a string of Muggle Christmas lights. He opened the card and had to laugh again.

_No calendar, but just so you know, France isn’t the only place with men who look like this.  
Happy Christmas. Love, G._

He read it over several times and felt his tension slip away. Maybe they weren’t on such tenuous grounds after all. And maybe, just maybe, this Christmas would be a good one, even if – he drank in the cover once more – this was as close to a naked man as he would get. 


	2. Chapter 2

Determined to make this year’s Christmas better than last – not that it was a high bar, all things considered – Harry ventured into Diagon Alley to pick up some Christmas cards and decorations.

He breathed in the clove-scented air and felt immediately warmed against the crisp December weather. He passed by stores decorated with all manner of greens, reds, golds and silvers, and window displays showcasing the latest and greatest wares, glad to be a part of something he’d missed rather a lot last year.

He hummed along to the music that carried along the street and spilled from the various stores, and grinned at all the excited children running about, driving their parents mad. So preoccupied with one frazzled mother and her brood of four, he walked right into someone. Auror and Seeker instincts always at the ready, he managed to catch one small parcel in his left hand and wave his wand to rescue the rest with a cushioning charm before any of the packages had reached the halfway mark between arms and ground.

"So sorry," he said as he helped the man put his parcels to rights. Then he realised whom he faced. "Malfoy?"

The grey eyes rolled upwards as his white blond brows scowled. "A menace as usual, I see."

Harry laughed. Not even Malfoy’s familiar annoyance with him could dampen his mood. "Apparently so." Another wave of his wand and Malfoy’s parcels were neatly bundled together with a thick red and gold ribbon tied in a decorative bow that would do Godric Gryffindor himself proud. "There you go. Now they’ll at least stay together."

Malfoy hesitated and Harry wondered if he was about to shock Harry with thanks. Alas, it was not meant to be. "Ugh. Isn’t there enough red and gold in this place already?" His eyes travelled over a particularly gaudy display in a window across the street.

Harry shrugged and waved his wand once more, transforming the ribbon and accompanying bow into deep green with silver trim. "Better?"

Malfoy’s mouth opened but no words escaped. He closed it again and then, with a confused and wary expression, nodded curtly. 

"You know you could shrink them to make them easier to transport. Or send them on ahead of you."

"Why no, Potter, I didn’t know such basic spells existed." With a long-suffering sigh, he said, "Not _everything_ can withstand the brutality of a shrinking charm or magical transit, you know."

Harry, bemused at the strangely comforting combination of sneer and condescension from Malfoy, bowed. "But of course, such precious cargo as you are no doubt transporting, Mr Malfoy, would need far greater care."

Again Malfoy did the mouth opening and closing thing. Harry barely restrained a chuckle. Eventually, Malfoy regained the use of speech. He looked even warier. "What are you suggesting, _Auror Potter_?"

"Er ..."

"I’ll have you know that I’m not doing anything wrong. People have the right to walk down the street in broad daylight carrying Christmas presents."

"Of course they do." Harry wasn’t sure what had happened to get Malfoy all bent out of shape, but he needed to stop this before it went downhill even further. "Listen, Malfoy, I wasn’t implying anything. I was just joking around with you."

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. "You? Joking with me?"

"Mm hmm. You know, like normal people do."

"Normal people that don’t hate each other, you mean."

"I don’t hate you."

His eyes widened briefly at that, but he continued to look unamused. "Right."

Harry returned his wand to his pocket – he hadn’t even realised he was still holding it – and put his hands up in front of him. "Look, Malfoy, I don’t know what I did --"

"You mean besides nearly knocking me down in the street?"

"Yes, I mean besides that." Again he had to fight back a grin. He had no idea why their exchange was amusing him so much while clearly pissing Malfoy off. Well, maybe it was precisely that he was pissing Malfoy off that amused Harry so much. Old habits and all that. "I was in a particularly good mood and was a bit distracted by ... well, never mind that. I bumped into you, for which I’m sorry. Then you looked down your nose at me, as you always do, and the familiarity of it just got the better of me. I was amused and, for some unknown reason, I tried for some teasing banter. I meant nothing by it. Nothing bad anyway. Really."

Malfoy took a while to process what Harry had said before allowing himself to accept the words for what they were. "Whatever, Potter. If you’re done with your _witty banter_ I’ll be on my way before some other oaf bumps into me."

Harry smiled and nodded at the packages Malfoy was carrying. "I put a cushioning charm on them, just in case."

Once more Malfoy looked completely thrown. "You’re strange, Potter."

This time Harry allowed himself to laugh. "I would have thought you’d know that about me by now."

He once more rolled his eyes. "Bye, Potter." As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, "And try to pay attention to where you’re walking."

"Later, Malfoy," Harry called to his retreating form.

As Harry continued his trek through Diagon Alley, he felt even lighter now than before his odd exchange with his old school nemesis. He supposed that one-upping Malfoy had always been one of his favourite things to do. Strange that he’d never given it a thought, how he might miss that.


	3. Chapter 3

"Uncle Harry!" Harry found himself nearly knocked to the ground by his godson.

He grinned at Teddy and squeezed him while he still could. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the blue-haired urchin was too old for such things, and he wanted to soak up the affection while it was still so generously bestowed on him. "Hey, little man."

"I’m not little," he insisted, hair turning a deep purple.

Harry barely managed to grab him round the waist and, as Teddy tried to wriggle away, lift him into the air. "Until you reach my shoulders or I can’t do this anymore--" He swung his godson around until the purple hair lightened and Teddy started to giggle "--you will be my little man."

Harry put his godson down as his giggles subsided and his hair returned to its familiar turquoise hue. "But not ..."

"Relax," Harry said as he ruffled Teddy’s hair. "You don’t think I’d embarrass you in public, do you?" 

Teddy seemed to consider that for a while before hesitantly saying, "I guess not."

"I mean I could if you’d like."

"No, no!"

"Fair enough. Only in front of family. You’re safe around friends."

He grinned. Harry knew he was playing up the tough boy thing even though he loved when Harry did fun stuff with him. "No promises where Ron’s concerned, though."

Teddy looked scandalised. "He wouldn’t!"

"I daresay he might at that."

"You’ll tell him not to, right?"

Harry laughed. "I think that’d be like issuing him a challenge." Teddy scowled. "But I reckon he’s got Rose and Hugo to embarrass. If you don’t draw too much attention to yourself around him, he probably won’t even think about it."

"You think?"

Harry shrugged. "It’s the best you can hope for." Harry noticed his anxious look and opted to divert the conversation in another direction. "Let’s help Grandma with dinner."

Twenty minutes later, they’d been kicked out of the kitchen – apparently underfoot isn’t the same thing as helpful – and sent to retrieve some of the winter toys from the basement. As Harry pulled the old toboggan out, Teddy excitedly asked, "Can we go again this year?"

"Of course we can." Teddy’s hair went a vivid shade of turquoise. "Once we have some snow."

Shifting his eyes between Harry and the sled, he said, "Can’t you just make snow?"

Harry held out his wand and directed it into the corner. Snow spewed from the end of it, forming a two-foot tall pile of the white stuff. "Sure can."

"Cool!"

"Alas, no. I can’t seem to master that part of the spell, and it ends up a sticky mess under the skis. It looks great, but is completely useless for practical purposes."

"What?" Teddy’s face was screwed up in confusion. 

"I can make it, but it’s not good enough to toboggan on. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait for the real stuff."

He let out a "Hmpf," then dived in to retrieve more from the pile. "What’s that?" he asked, pointing upwards.

Harry grinned. A small cushion sat atop a bureau, with the embroidered words, "Cuddle weather" on it. "That is a pillow that Ginny and I found a few years back. Not sure how it ended up in here." He recalled the antiquing day the two of them had had and Ron’s mocking of him for it. He hadn’t expected to enjoy the day as much as he had, but there you go. Ginny had seen the pillow and insisted on buying it. They’d had it with them when ... He shook the thought away. 

"Should we give it back to her?" Teddy asked.

Not that he’d ever admit it to Harry, but Teddy looked a bit disappointed at the thought. Harry thought it highly unlikely – despite their recently renewed, though still tentative friendship – that Ginny would want a constant reminder of the good old times between them. She had, after all, removed all her possessions when they’d first called it quits, and hadn’t asked for anything else. Still, he’d better ask before giving it away, even if he had paid for it. "I’ll check with her next time we talk."

Teddy looked like he wanted to say something, looked into Harry’s eyes, then changed his mind.

"You miss her, don’t you?" Harry asked, thinking he knew what was troubling Teddy.

"A little. But I’m not supposed to say. Grandma said you might not like that."

"It’s okay, little man. You can say anything to me. I promise."

Teddy hugged him unexpectedly. "I do miss her."

Harry hugged him back. "Me too." _Even if I don’t want back what we had._  



	4. Chapter 4

Back at home the next day, Harry dragged out his decorations. He’d managed to find a reasonably-sized tree in the woods behind his house – not anything as big as the ones at Hogwarts, and not even as big as he and Ginny’d had over the years, but nice all the same. And certainly more impressive than the tree from last year. Neither he nor Ginny had made much of an effort, with things as uncomfortable as they’d become, and they’d picked one more out of duty than anything else. 

And they’d put off decorating until ... well, until the day they’d split up and then Harry hadn’t the motivation to do anything more once she’d left. The decorations hadn’t so much as made it out of the basement. And, not feeling particularly festive in a house with so many memories, and his wounds still raw, he’d opted to visit Teddy at Andromeda’s rather than have him join Harry at Grimmauld Place. He’d had no reason to decorate.

But this year would be different. He was determined to have a good time, visit friends, have Teddy over for a few days and get into the festive season.

As he rifled through the boxes, he set aside the ornaments he traditionally had Teddy help with, along with this year’s new addition of a reindeer. 

Each year he bought Teddy a new ornament for the tree, though last year’s snitch remained at Andromeda’s. Secretly he hoped Teddy would bring it with him to add to Harry’s tree, but he wouldn’t ask. He smiled as he unwrapped the blue ceramic stocking with a teddy bear sticking out of the top that said "Baby’s First Christmas". It had been impossible to resist. Tinsel – the final thing to be added to the tree – got thrown into the wait-for-Teddy pile too. 

Harry remembered the first time Arthur had seen the plastic shimmery stuff and had gone positively crazy over it. 

"This is how the Muggles make their lights look real, isn’t it?"

"Er ..." Harry had replied, no idea what Arthur was on about.

"The lights sparkle off the tinkles--" Ron had nearly fallen off his chair at this "-- so they look like faerie lights moving around the tree." He shook his head and smiled as if humouring a young child. "They think of everything, the Muggles do."

"Actually, Arthur," Hermione had felt obligated to explain, "I believe they are supposed to look like icicles hanging off the branches."

His smile wavered slightly. "Oh." Then it bounced back and he repeated, "They think of everything."

Harry hadn’t given it much thought before that, but given that the package said _icicles_ , he rather thought Hermione had a point. Which was probably a good thing, because Harry didn’t need anything to make the lights look real, since he did, in fact, have faerie lights on his tree. And he wasn’t going to forego tinsel in any case because he and Teddy always had so much fun lobbing wads of the stuff at the tree, to Ginny’s unending consternation. 

He sighed. He and Teddy would have to do the lobbing _and_ the fixing of the tinsel this year, without anyone directing their efforts. Though the more he thought about it, as he unpacked the rest of the ornaments, the more he was rather looking forward to it. A tree _for_ the boys and _by_ the boys. Should be fun.

He spent the rest of the day decorating the house with a mix of Muggle and magical decorations, humming along to Christmas music and sipping eggnog. But after adding just a few ornaments to the tree, he decided to leave most for when Teddy came over. It was always more fun to decorate a tree with someone else. Then, on a whim, he tossed some Floo powder into the fire and called Andromeda’s.

"Harry! Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes, everything’s fine."

"It’s just that we only saw you yesterday."

Harry nodded. "Listen, Andromeda, I realise Teddy’s coming over next week, but I was decorating the house and --"

"And you could use an extra set of hands?"

He smiled. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all, dear."

Harry felt a wave of relief. "Teddy usually helps me with the tree, and I was on a roll and wanted to keep going. And I thought you might welcome a few hours to yourself. And I thought Teddy might not mind coming over."

She laughed. "He hasn’t stopped talking about Uncle Harry all day. I don’t think it’ll take much convincing to get him ready to go."

"And you’re sure you don’t mind?" Harry asked again. "You’re also welcome to come over, if you’d like."

She shook her head and stood up, turning to face the stairs. "Teddy, would you like to go to Uncle Harry’s tonight?" Without waiting for a reply, she turned back to face Harry. "Shall I pack an overnight bag?"

Harry smiled widely. "No need. I’m sure we’ve got everything here."

She grinned back. "I love my grandson, Harry, but I am not getting any younger. I welcome a reprieve every now and again, and will happily accept your offer." 

Harry heard a rumble of footsteps descending the stairs, and next thing he knew, a panting Teddy came into view. "Can I really?"

Harry laughed. "Yep. But you’re going to have to work for it, little man. I have a tree to decorate."

Teddy spun round to give Andromeda a perfunctory hug. "Bye, Grandma."

She caught him by the back of his shirt as he tried to launch himself into the Floo. "Get your jacket and boots, young man. Who knows what your godfather has in store for you."

Spirits already lifted at the sight of the young bundle of energy, Harry said, "Thanks, Andromeda."

"We’ve nothing planned until suppertime tomorrow – we’re visiting my sister at the manor – so if you could have him back by around this time, that would be great."

Teddy zoomed back into the room, sliding across the hardwood floor in his stocking feet and holding his jacket and boots. "I’m ready now."

Harry took the coat and boots and motioned for him to stay where he was. "Let me get back before you jump inside. Goodnight Andromeda. I’ll have him home this time tomorrow. And thanks again."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry pulled his head out of the fire and stepped back to give Teddy room. Suddenly his evening felt much more promising. And, as Teddy toppled out of the Floo, Harry felt that Grimmauld Place felt much more like home too.  



	5. Chapter 5

"So, what would you like for breakfast?" Harry asked Teddy as they headed down the stairs. "After all that work decorating the tree, I figure some scrambled eggs and toast might be in order."

Teddy’s hair dulled. "No pancakes?"

Harry sighed. He regretted telling Teddy about the weird American habit of having sweets for breakfast after he’d come back from a business trip to MACUSA. Now all he ever wanted were pancakes and, inevitably, an hour later he’d crash and need a pick-me-up. "Not today, I’m afraid. We have some serious shopping to do and I’m not going to stop to get you something else to eat because you’re hungry as soon as we get there."

Teddy pouted, but to no avail. Long gone were the days when that worked on Harry. Well, not usually at any rate. He let out a big sigh and said, "Fine. Scrambled eggs."

"Excuse me?"

"Scrambled eggs would be nice, thank you."

Harry grinned. "Excellent! Sausages or ham with that?"

"Ham, please."

Harry stopped to admire the tree before heading to the kitchen. "Nice job."

Teddy’s hair returned to its normal vibrant turquoise, pancakes forgotten for now. "Thanks. You did a pretty good job, too."

Harry chuckled as he manoeuvred Teddy into the kitchen. "We make a good team, don’t we?"

"Mm hmm."

"Why don’t you set the table while I whip up some breakfast."

"Okay." Using the step stool Harry had bought for this purpose, Teddy reached all the necessary dishes, glasses and cutlery, set the table and poured their juice while Harry scrambled the eggs, fried the ham, put bread in the toaster and set the kettle going for tea.

When Teddy sat down, Harry said, "Wow, you’re getting faster all the time."

"Grandma has me set the table every day now."

Harry looked at the table. "And a great job you did." The toast popped and he buttered it and put it on a plate. Without prompting, Teddy retrieved the toast and put it onto the table while Harry dished out the rest of the food and set the tea to steep.

They ate in relative silence, save for the sounds of hungry boys wolfing down a good meal. When they finished, Harry said, "So, have you given any more thought to what you want to buy your Grandma for Christmas?"

Teddy screwed his face up in concentration and it was all Harry could do to stifle a laugh. Teddy let out a deep sigh. "Are you sure she wouldn’t like Berty Bott’s?"

"Quite sure." At his disappointed look, Harry added, "But she might like some nice chocolates."

A half hour later, they entered the fray that was Diagon Alley at Christmas and were immediately accosted by music, noise and crowds.  To add to the sensory overload were even more displays of red, green, silver and gold than the last time Harry had been there.

"This looks awesome!" Teddy exclaimed before diving into the melee.  It was all Harry could do to keep up.

After a couple of hours chasing after his godson, Harry called a halt.  "Okay, little man, I need a break."

Teddy rolled his eyes.  "You're worse than grandma."

"Maybe because she _likes_ to shop."  He manoeuvred Teddy towards a cafe.  "Warm beverage break."

"Excellent!"

"I'll get the hot chocolate. You find us seats." Teddy nodded and went in search of a table as Harry made his way to the back.

"Hello, Auror Potter," the young girl behind the counter greeted Harry.

"Merry Christmas, Trisha.  I'll have two hot chocolates, please."

She glanced behind him and smiled, apparently seeing Teddy.  "He's getting so big."

Harry grinned.  "A few more years and he'll be off to Hogwarts."

She whipped up the drinks then waved her wand over both cups, making faces out of the foam.  "Happy Christmas."

"Thanks."  

Harry turned in the direction Trisha had been looking and stopped dead.  There sat Teddy at a table by the window, chatting with none other than Draco Malfoy.  Bracing himself, he took a deep breath and made his way over to join them.

Before he could say a word, Teddy burst out, "Look who I saw!"

"I see," Harry said, placing the mugs on the table and pulling out a chair. "Hello, Malfoy."

"Potter."

"Fancy meeting you here again."

"Indeed." He sipped his drink. "Twice in one week."

Harry sat down and passed Teddy's mug to him.  "All set for Christmas?" 

Malfoy hesitated, then, glancing at Teddy, seemed to think better of ignoring Harry’s attempt at conversation. "Nearly.  I just have something for Mother left to buy.  You?"

Teddy answered for him.  "Uncle Harry has almost nothing.  He always leaves it to the last minute."

Malfoy let a grin slip onto his face.  "Shocking."

Harry, finding himself inexplicably offended, felt the need to defend himself.  "Well I don't exactly like shopping and I really don't like crowds."

Malfoy rolled his eyes.  "That's precisely why you should shop earlier.  The crowds only get worse as Christmas draws nearer."

"I know.  I guess it just crept up on me and before I knew it, the crowds were everywhere."

Teddy leaned in and, in a stage whisper, told Malfoy, "He said the same thing last year."

This time Malfoy laughed out loud.  "Why does that not surprise me?"

Harry lifted his mug in a mock toast. "I’m glad I can give you both a reason to laugh."

Teddy giggled. "And Uncle Harry wanted to stop shopping and come in here, even though he’s not even close to being done."

Malfoy raised his brows. "Are you hoping that someone will come along and do your shopping for you?"

Harry grinned. "Is that an offer?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Certainly not. Although ... I’m sure I could come up with a perfect gift for Weaselbee."

Harry laughed. "Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I can manage." He turned to Teddy. "At least I can when I’m not chasing this one around and only going into sweet and joke shops."

"Oh, I don’t know about that." Malfoy looked at Teddy. "Girls like chocolate and boys like jokes. Isn’t that right?"

"See?" Teddy looked triumphant.

"Don’t encourage him," Harry told Malfoy.

"Should have done your shopping sooner," Malfoy added, quite unnecessarily.

"You know, I could leave the two of you here and get all my shopping done right now."

"Nice try, Potter." Malfoy looked at Teddy. "I’ll be seeing you and your grandmother later today at the manor. But for now— He drank the last of his coffee "—I need to help Mother prepare."

"Coward," Harry teased.

Malfoy stood up and wrapped his scarf around his neck. "I’m not the one afraid of shopping."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Touche."

"Later, Potter." He turned to Teddy and mussed his hair. "And you, little man."

Teddy jumped up and gave Malfoy a hug. Harry was surprised when Malfoy picked Teddy up and gave him a big bear hug in return. He was even more surprised when Teddy asked, "Can Uncle Harry come tonight too?"

Malfoy put him down. "Perhaps another time." He looked at Harry before turning back to Teddy. "When Aunt Narcissa has some warning."

" _And_ Uncle Lucius," Harry added.

" _Especially_ Uncle Lucius," Malfoy agreed.

As Harry watched him leave, he tried to imagine sitting down to dinner with the Malfoys. He’d have laughed at the thought if he didn’t think Lucius would try to poison him.

"That’ll be great!" Teddy said, bringing Harry back to reality. "You can come with us next time."

"We’ll see," Harry said, knowing full well that Malfoy had only said that to avoid a long explanation. "But for now, drink up. We have more shopping to do."  



	6. Chapter 6

Harry stood at the gates of Hogwarts, soaking in the view. In the distance, snow fell around the castle that had been the first true home he could remember. Despite the chill in the air, his heart warmed at the sight. Sure, he could have arranged to Floo directly into the castle, but he wouldn’t have missed this for the world.

He announced his arrival with a patronus and the gates opened for him in short order. He took his time walking the well-worn path, now lightly dusted with white, and breathed deeply of the fresh, Scottish air. It felt like home.

As he got closer, he quickened his pace, looking forward to a hot cup of tea and a visit with his friend. 

"Harry, you tosser! Why didn’t you take me up on the Floo?" Neville asked, shaking his head and smiling indulgently as he stood just inside the oak doors. "It’s bloody freezing out here."

Harry took out his wand and waved it in Neville’s direction. "Wizard, remember? I cast a warming charm."

"Still." Neville opened the door wider and motioned Harry inside. "The damp air cuts through those charms in short order, especially when it’s windy."

"True," Harry said, rubbing his admittedly chilled hands together, "but I wanted the full effect, you know."

"Wanted to freeze your balls off just in time for the holidays?"

"No, I think I’ll keep them, thanks. But I did want to do the walk. Made me feel like ... well, like when we were students here."

"You’re barking, you do know that."

"So Ron tells me every chance he gets."

Neville led the way, not to his own rooms but in the direction of the Headmistress’s office. "Minerva’s been after me to let her know the next time you drop by, so I thought we’d have tea with her. Hope you don’t mind."

"Not at all. I’m planning my usual visit later in the month, but I was hoping to pop in to see her while I’m here." He smiled at the portraits framing the halls, and the decorations everywhere. It really did feel like Christmas here. "I see Hagrid’s been busy with the decorations again this year."

"Oh, yeah." Neville grinned. "Still his favourite time of year."

"I’m sorry I missed him."

"He’ll be back in a few days. You can see him next time." Neville stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "If it’s nae Scottish, it’s crap."

Harry blinked, not quite sure he’d heard correctly. "What?"

The entrance to McGonagall’s office opened and the spiral staircase stood before them. Neville grinned at Harry. "Her idea of a joke while the students are away."

Harry laughed. "She’s getting feistier in her old age," he said.

"Don’t let her catch you saying that," Neville warned as he stepped onto the staircase. "Truth be told, I think she’s always been like this, only she puts on a stern face for the students."

Harry followed, remembering his former head of house fondly. "She was always caring, that’s for sure. Tough but fair, you know. But funny? I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure Dumbledore was the one for humour."

"More like mad, he was. I think maybe she put on a tougher exterior to counter his eccentricities. Now she doesn’t have to make up for that, so she’s able to let her hair down a bit." Harry tried to imagine her with her hair down, but found he couldn’t. As though reading his mind, Neville added, "Figuratively speaking, of course."

Harry grinned. "Of course."

They entered the office and Harry was struck by how different it was from his days at school. He’d been here multiple times before, since McGonagall had taken over, but he’d never really absorbed the changes, so that every time he visited it was like the first time all over again. He never stopped expecting to see all of Dumbledore’s gadgets strewn about, and most of all, Fawkes.

The Christmas spirit was alive and well in her office, as in the rest of the castle. On the side table, where, if he remembered correctly, she usually had a collection of tartan knickknacks, rested an advent calendar and a replica Hogwarts Express parked at a festive Hogsmeade Station. At the centre of the display sat what looked to be an ice castle, an astonishingly accurate Hogwarts in miniature.

"Harry, so good to see you." McGonagall greeted him with a hug.

He returned the hug, feeling once more like he’d come home. "Great to see you too, Minerva." He still struggled with calling her by her first name, but she’d insisted on more than one occasion, so he made the effort. But he never stopped thinking of her as Professor McGonagall. He doubted he ever would.

She showed them to a table set for tea in the far corner of the office. "I missed you last year," she said. "I’m glad to see you’re out and about again."

Neville pulled out a chair and sat down. "Christmas wasn’t the same without a visit from you," Neville agreed.

Harry took off his cloak and scarf before taking his seat, feeling a bit badly about bailing on everyone last Christmas. After the falling out with Ginny, he couldn’t very well have gone to the Burrow. And with his face and name on every newspaper and magazine in what seemed like the whole country, he hadn’t been able to go anywhere in public without being accosted. It had been easier to just hide away for the season, even if it had included hiding from his friends. And this was his first time since the all too public breakup that he’d visited his old school. Sure, he’d seen Neville and Hagrid, but he’d met up with each of them in town. Strange that he hadn’t thought about that before now.

"It was a tough one," he admitted, "what with the media storm fueling the fire." McGonagall frowned and looked like she wanted to say something, but Harry continued. "But that’s all in the past, and I’m determined to make the most of the season this time around. Make up for the mess that was last Christmas. And, even if they still want to write about me, I’ve been through worse."

McGonagall considered him before pouring their tea into familiar cups. "I should say you have at that."

"Indeed." Harry chuckled and thought about where life had taken him and these two people, and so many others. "Haven’t we all?"

They spent the next hour catching up on the comings and goings in their lives and Harry had to agree with Neville. Their former professor seemed more relaxed than he’d seen her before, and had quite the sense of humour when she wasn’t putting on a tough face. Harry found he rather liked this version of her and had arranged for another visit before the holidays were over. Harry had a brief chat with Dumbledore’s portrait and the rest of the afternoon was spent with Neville, touring the castle and visiting some of Harry’s old haunts. 

When evening approached, it was with a light heart that Harry walked back to Hogsmeade – no, he didn’t want to take the Floo, thanks – and he vowed to never miss Christmas back home again.  



	7. Chapter 7

Harry looked out over the Thames from his spot on Westminster Bridge while he waited for Luna for their traditional seasonal breakfast in Muggle London. Luna always chose the place and every year it was both different and a surprise, so Harry had no idea where they were headed, except that it was somewhere near Big Ben. He glanced over at the big clock to see that Luna was ten minutes late. Waiting for the sun to properly rise, the street lights hadn’t yet turned off and were emphasizing the mist in the air.

It was another crisp day, one that lets you know you’re alive, and Harry would prefer to get someplace warm. He’d cast a warming charm, but it was wearing off and he hadn’t mastered the art of casting a good spell without being obvious about it. The morning crowds were already descending on the city, so he was playing it safe.

"Hi, Harry," Luna called from behind. He turned round and was immediately enveloped in a huge hug that Luna was famous for. "Sorry I’m late. I got distracted by the most adorable puppies in a pet shop window on my way over here. They had little Christmas sweaters on and everything. No excuse really, except time got away from me and they really were adorable. Shall we head over now?"

Harry smiled at his friend, appreciating as always her love for life and, even after everything she’d gone through, her innocence. He nodded and followed her into a bustling shop that smelled of coffee and pastries and bacon. Just what he needed.

They settled in with their breakfast at, as luck would have it on a busy morning, a window seat as the sun cast its rays through the remaining mist before it vanished altogether, leaving a clear, if not crisp, view of the riverbanks.

Without preamble, Luna blurted out, "Draco tells me he saw you twice this past week."

Harry, confused, frowned at his friend. Since when did she converse with Draco Malfoy, of all people, and why on earth would they have been talking about Harry?

Before he managed to cobble together words to express his confusion, Luna continued. "He called me yesterday to ask if I thought you really planned to visit him at the manor."

Thankfully, Harry had put down his fork at Luna’s first utterance, so he was saved from choking on his sausage. "He what?"

She nodded as she sipped her coffee. "Yes, he seemed nearly as perplexed as you right now. He said something about Teddy asking if you could come with him to the manor. He was rather surprised you didn’t argue, but I told him that it didn’t surprise me. After all--" She took a maddeningly slow bite of her toast followed by another sip of her coffee. "It was only a matter of time before the two of you became friends."

Harry reached for his cup of tea and had to swallow a good portion of it before he could properly wrap his head around her words. Sure, he was used to Luna blurting out strange things, but when it had to do with people she knew, she was generally spitting out truths that most everyone knew but had the subtlety not to say. But this?

He wiped his mouth as he watched Luna, quite unaware of Harry’s bewilderment, continue to munch away at her food. "Luna," he began, not entirely sure what he wanted to ask, or if he wanted to hear the answer. "Why on earth would you think that Draco Malfoy and I would become friends? I mean, we hated each other in school."

She laughed. "No, you didn’t."

"Oh, I’m pretty sure we did." He was pretty sure everyone knew that, particularly anyone in their year. Perhaps Luna missed it, being a year behind them and in Ravenclaw? "And how is it you found yourself talking to Malfoy about me anyway?"

Once more, she took her time with another couple of bites of food and a sip of coffee before responding. "Oh, we’ve kept in touch over the years."

He wasn’t expecting that. "You have?"

"Oh, yes. A few months after the war, I saw him in Diagon Alley and approached him to say hello. Before I had the chance, he apologised for everything that happened at his home during the war."

That surprised Harry. Not so much that Malfoy had apologised _eventually_ , but that he’d not run as soon as he’d seen Luna. That was, in fact, what he’d done when he’d seen Harry the first few times after the war. "I’m glad to hear it. A bit surprised, but glad."

"Oh, yes, he was ever so upset at what had happened to me. And Mr. Ollivander too. And the rest of you." She stared at Harry for a few moments before continuing. "I think he was as much a prisoner there as we were. It just wasn’t quite so _literal_ , I suppose."

"I know."

She looked at him questioningly. "You do?"

Harry nodded. "I had some insight – a connection of sorts – into Voldemort’s thoughts. I saw what he’d made Malfoy do, and I knew that he only did it out of fear for his family. His mother most of all, I think." He hadn’t thought about that scared boy he’d seen torture a Death Eater on Voldemort’s orders for a long time. He didn’t like to think about that time. "I don’t think he felt he had much of a choice in anything really. Not with Lucius as his father." Harry didn’t bother to hide his contempt for the man.

Luna grinned broadly. "See? I knew you didn’t hate him." Harry made to argue, but she cut him off. "And Draco never hated you either. He was just jealous, I think. That and he was programmed to hate you by his father – a man he desperately wanted to live up to – so he emulated Lucius." She let that sink in while she finished her coffee. Harry found himself unable to form a coherent retort. "And the two of you always had the whole I-hate-you-but-I-really-don’t thing happening that I figured it was only a matter of time before you realised how stupid you were both being and became friends."

Harry snorted. "That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?"

"Oh, no. In fact, I always suspected there was something more there than even that, what with you both obsessing over each other. But I figure one step at a time." She waved towards Harry’s unfinished breakfast. "Hurry up or you’ll be late for work."

"But—" Luna was right about the time, but he couldn’t just leave the conversation like this. He shovelled the remains of his meal into his mouth in three goes before swigging back the dregs of his tea. "What do you mean, _more than that_?"

She stood up and put on her coat before turning her dreamy smile on him. "Oh, I always thought you’d make a handsome couple."

And with that, she walked out of the restaurant, leaving a speechless and utterly flummoxed Harry to follow in her wake.  



	8. Chapter 8

"She’s mental!"

"Ron!" Hermione said, swatting him across the shoulder. "Luna is not mental."

He looked at Harry for support. "Didn’t you hear what Harry just said? Luna thinks Harry and the ferret should be best mates or something. How can that be anything but mental?"

"I don’t know," she said, eyeing Harry before turning back to Ron. "You do remember him flying into fire to save him, don’t you?"

Ron glared at Harry. "Yeah, I remember." He shuddered, as though reliving the moment. "I never said he--" He motioned towards Harry "--wasn’t mental too, but that’s just Harry. Always saving people. It doesn’t mean he wants to be mates with the prat."

Hermione surveyed Harry, giving him the impression, as ever, that she was reading his thoughts. "Is that all Luna said?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, wondering just what she and Luna had been discussing behind his back, and just how far that conversation had gone. "Why do you ask?"

She looked away quickly, shrugging. "Just wondering if she had anything else to say on the matter." She left the room to go check on the dinner before Harry had a chance to reply. 

Ron excused himself to get Rose and Harry took in their decorations. He chuckled at the stocking George had got for Rose when she’d been born. 

With the words, "Santa, I can explain" emblazoned on it, Harry rather thought it more appropriate for George, but they’d kept it. As he glanced at the television, he noted a stack of Muggle Christmas specials on DVD that Harry suspected were more for Arthur than Rose. As he made to look at what all the shows were, he was interrupted by a scurry of feet coming down the hall.

"Uncle Harry!" Rose barrelled into the room and right into Harry’s outstretched arms, planting a sloppy smooch on his cheek.

"Hello, Rosie!" Harry picked up the toddler and spun her around until her giggles had reduced Hermione to tears of laughter. Harry put her down and she wobbled before falling on her bum and laughing some more.

"Okay, you," Hermione said to her daughter. "Time to eat," she said as she put her into her high chair and put some bite-sized bits on the tray. "We’ll leave the messy stuff until your head stops spinning."

They enjoyed their meal, entertained by Rose's antics, which reminded Harry of Teddy when he was a toddler. Only when she went to bed a few hours later did Hermione bring the topic of conversation full circle. 

"So you never answered my question earlier."

Harry, taken aback at the abrupt change in conversation, had no idea what she was talking about. "What question?"

Hermione gave him her 'don't be daft' look that she normally reserved for Ron. "Did Luna say anything else?"

"Well, yeah. The Quibbler is doing well. Rolf too. Did you know that he--"

"Harry!"

"What?" He'd honed his skills at distraction and diversion over his years as an Auror, but they'd never been much of a match for Hermione.

"About Malfoy."

Once more Harry found himself wondering how much Luna and Hermione had already discussed the topic. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"What are you on about?" Ron asked. "And why would Harry want to talk about the ferret when there's a world of topics to discuss? Take Quidditch for instance. The Cannons are doing well this season, don't you think?"

Harry laughed at his friend's attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere, partly because his choice of topic was inevitably his team who, from what Harry had witnessed in his years in the wizarding world, had never amounted to more than a mediocre team, and partly because he had less chance of distracting his wife than Harry did.

"Nice try, Ron." She turned her attention to Harry, raising one brow and looking disturbingly like McGonagall back in their school days. "Well?"

Frustratingly, he felt his cheeks redden of their own free will. "She has some daft idea that we'd make a good couple."

Ron choked on his after-meal pint. Honestly, it was almost worth the embarrassment. "Bloody hell, give a bloke some warning, mate."

Harry grinned and shrugged. "Sorry. I did say it was daft."

Ron spluttered a bit more before taking a large swig. "What exactly did she say?"

Harry caught Hermione's smirk out of the corner of his eye as he felt his cheeks burn even more. "First that it was inevitable that we'd become friends, then maybe more." Hermione was smiling broadly now. "Then when I asked what she meant, she said something about us being a handsome couple."

"She's not wrong," Hermione said.

"What?" Ron gaped at his wife. "Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm right here and I'm just saying they _would_ make a handsome couple."

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Are you, or are you not, the same person I witnessed smack the ferret across the face in our fourth year?"

"Third year. And just because he was a prat in school doesn't mean he isn't good looking now. Or back then, for that matter."

"What?"

"Not my type, but ... well, he's never really been hard on the eyes." She looked at Harry before he had a chance to school his features, then turned back to Ron. "Hard on the nerves, to be sure, but I hear he's much better now."

"Oh you hear, do you?" Ron’s irritation rang loudly through the room.

Hermione sighed in that way she had with Rose when she was pushing the boundaries with her mother. "If you must know, Luna meets up with him for lunch or dinner every couple of months and says that he's much nicer since leaving school."

Harry wasn’t surprised. "Probably helps that his dick of a dad got brought down a few notches."

Hermione nodded. "More than a few, thank goodness."

"Cheers to that," Ron agreed.

"Luna figures he'd been emulating Lucius in school," Harry added, "and that he's not really like that."

Hermione did the eyebrow lifting thing again. "And what do _you_ think?"

Harry took some time to formulate an honest answer. "He's never been as bad as Lucius. Not even close." He'd given Malfoy rather more thought than was probably wise since his breakfast with Luna. "And I reckon Luna may have a point. He was always on about _my father_ this and _my father_ that." He thought back to that horrible night on the Astronomy Tower. "And when push came to shove, he couldn't kill Dumbledore." Pictures of a scared kid flashed before Harry’s eyes once more. "And I saw how disgusted he was at what Voldemort did and made him do." He looked at Ron now. "And he didn't give us away at the manor. He could have won praise and glory - maybe even redemption for his dad - but he didn't do it. And there's no way he didn't recognise me."

Ron grudgingly nodded. "He was still a prat."

Harry laughed. "Definitely. But did he even know any better? I mean, was that really him or the kid that desperately wanted to be his dad?"

Ron scowled. "You know what? I don't care. He still didn't have to be such an idiot. You didn't have the advantage of a good role model growing up, did you? And look how you turned out."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, somewhere deep inside of me, my parents' influence kept me from becoming like my uncle."

"Or maybe, in his own way," Hermione said, "Lucius showed Draco the love your uncle never showed you. He might not have been so awful to his son. At least not all the time."

"Fair point," Harry conceded.

"You know what?" Ron said, swigging the last of his beer. "I'm done talking about the ferret. Luna's mental and that's all there is to it. Right, Harry?"

"Er ... right." 

Harry avoided Hermione's eyes as he found himself halfheartedly agreeing with Ron. He wasn't technically lying. Luna _was_ crazy about all sorts of things. But he had to admit, if only to himself, that Hermione was right about one thing: Malfoy had never been hard on the eyes. Not even when he was all pointy back in school. And now? Well, he certainly had grown up well.

Harry couldn’t believe he was even entertaining thoughts like this, but the more he thought about Malfoy and reevaluated their past through Luna’s eyes – a dangerous pursuit, to be sure – the less crazy she sounded.

When he returned from his thoughts, it was to find Hermione studying him, and he had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly where and on whom his mind had been.  



	9. Chapter 9

Harry, opting to walk the last stretch to Andromeda’s house, found himself glad he’d made that decision. All the homes on the street were decorated for Christmas, most with lights that shone off the recently-fallen snow. He found himself humming Deck the Halls as he made his way to her door and rang the bell.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy greeted him, flinging the door wide and showcasing their own tree inside. This tree, unlike the ones outside, had real faerie lights like Harry’s at Grimmauld Place. The Muggle decorations were beautiful, and they did an admiral job, particularly when the lights flickered, but there was nothing quite like magical decorations.

"Hey, little man," Harry said. "Long time, no see!"

Teddy rolled his eyes and ran into the house, leaving Harry to follow. When he caught up to him, it was to find him with the sled Harry had dragged out the last time he’d visited. "We can go later today, yeah? It snowed!"

Harry grinned. "That it did. Sure, why not?"

"And Draco can come too!"

Harry looked from his godson to Andromeda and back. "Er ... why would you say that?"

"Draco and Aunt Narcissa are coming over later, for dinner. I thought he could join us."

Harry looked at the dining table and, sure enough, it was set for five. "Oh, you did, did you?" Andromeda shrugged when he caught her eye. "And does Draco know that he’s joining us?"

Unfazed, Teddy said, "Well, no. But that’s okay. I’m sure he’ll love it."

Harry chuckled, remembering how Malfoy had always taken cover during snow-related activities outdoors. Well, when he thought about it, most of the Slytherins had done the same. Then again, perhaps they only did that around the other houses. They might very well have had incredible snowball fights when out of sight of everyone else. "I look forward to seeing his reaction."

Andromeda snorted. "Indeed. And my sister’s as well."

Harry smiled. "I didn’t know others were joining us."

Another shrug. "Teddy said he wanted you to join us the next time we went to the manor, but I rather thought it might be nicer to do something here." _Without Lucius_ she left unsaid.

"Probably best," Harry agreed. It might be amusing to watch the senior Malfoy try to choke down his food while Harry joined him at his table, but probably best for Teddy this way. "Do you need a hand with anything?"

"Oh, no, Harry. I’ve got everything going already, and just a few last-minute things to do. You spend time with Teddy."

"Sounds like a plan." He turned to Teddy and asked, "What say you and I build a snowman while we wait for the others to arrive?"

"Definitely!"

Harry was thankful to have time outside to wrap his head around the fact that he was about to sit down to dinner with Malfoy and his mother. He had spoken to Narcissa only twice since the war – the first time to thank her for what she had done, and the second when she’d thanked him for testifying at Draco’s trial. Both times had been comfortable enough, if formal, but not what he would call friendly. He wasn’t sure how he felt about dining with her. Malfoy would be fine – after all, they’d survived their brief encounter over hot chocolate the other day – but Harry wasn’t so sure about his mother.

Teddy interrupted his thoughts with a snowball to the face. 

"Hey!"

Teddy burst into giggles right up until Harry pummelled him with an avalanche of snow he summoned with his wand.

"Hey! No fair!" he spluttered. "I don’t even have a wand yet."

"Well, you should have thought of that before throwing a snowball at your godfather." He waved his wand again and the snow lifted off Teddy and transformed itself into a snowman-sized lounge chair that McGonagall would have been proud of. "All is fair in love and war, little man. And this is war!"

He put away his wand and grabbed handfuls of snow, forming them into snowballs and pelting them at Teddy in quick succession, while Teddy did his best to get Harry too. They spent the next half hour ignoring the half-constructed snowman in favour of landing as many projectiles on each other as possible, all concern about dinner discomfort swept away for a time.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry ducked out of the way of a rather large snowball and heard it connect, not with the door behind him, as he’d expected, but with a person. "What the --?" 

He recognised the voice and turned to see Malfoy spluttering and wiping snow off his face. Then another snowball connected with the back of his head and he whipped around to see Teddy laughing at them both.

As he reached down to pick up more snow, he called back to Malfoy, "Well, are you just going to stand there spluttering or are you going to get him back for that?" Then he lobbed another ball of snow at his godson.

"Really, Potter? You think we ought to gang up on Teddy? The way I see it, he was aiming for you."

Then Harry felt a snowball hit him on the back of the neck. "Hey! That’s not fair, two against one."

Malfoy laughed.

"You mean like it wasn’t fair when you used your wand to dump a huge pile of snow on me?" Teddy called from behind their still as yet unfinished snowman.

"He did what?" Malfoy asked. "You mean like this?"

And before he could even pull out his wand, Harry found himself buried neck-deep in a mound of snow Malfoy had dumped on him. He suspected the neighbours all the way down the street could hear Teddy’s laughter now. Harry managed to get hold of his wand and banish the snow surrounding him, before conjuring up a whirlwind of snow and whisking Malfoy up in it, then tossing him across the lawn to land by Teddy’s now doubled-over form.

Malfoy jumped up and sent a wave of snow towards Harry who flicked his wand, turning it to ice.

"Cool!" Teddy said.

With another wave of his wand, Harry formed a dozen snowballs, pelting them at the other two, and Malfoy responded with a dozen of his own.

"Oof!"

They all turned to see Narcissa standing in the doorway and, like Draco before her, dripping with the remains of a snowball that had hit her on the cheek.

"Mother. So sorry. I-- We--" And with a wave of her wand, Harry’s ice wave disappeared and both he and Malfoy were whisked up into a cloud of snow and tossed unceremoniously into a hedge. And before they could react, she’d conjured snow ropes that bound them both to the bush.

"Theodore, you need to go inside and wash up for dinner." She shuffled him – giggling heartily at their predicament – into the house, then turned to Harry and Malfoy. "I wasn’t Slytherin’s snowball fight champion, three years running for nothing, gentlemen."

As she turned to follow Teddy into the house, Harry felt the ropes melt and he could move again. Laughing, he jumped up and offered his hand to Malfoy. "Your mom’s alright." 

With only a slight hesitation, Malfoy took the proffered hand and allowed Harry to pull him up. "You should see her when she’s mad."

They made their way to the door, both feebly attempting to brush off the worst of the damage. Unable to resist, Harry reached up and ruffled Malfoy’s hair, shaking off some snow. Laughing at the shocked look on his face, Harry said, "You look better like this, all messy," and he went inside the house before Malfoy could retort.

"Ah, ah, ah. I don’t think so," Narcissa caught them about to walk into the dining room. "Dry yourselves off first before you sit down at the table." Her lips twitched at the sight of them. "Boys may be boys, but we will have a civilised meal." She nodded emphatically at Teddy who barely contained his giggles.

"Yes, Mother," Malfoy replied.

Harry chuckled. "Sure thing, Mrs Malfoy."

She rolled her eyes. "And do call me Narcissa, will you, Harry?"

Harry blinked. "Er ... sure ... Narcissa."

Harry got to his wand first and dried the both of them off with a quick wave. Malfoy’s hair hung dry but limply over his forehead and Harry couldn’t help but think he really _did_ look better all mussed up.

The look of incredulity was even better. "I’m perfectly capable of drying myself off." He ran his hand through his hair only for it to fall back over his eye.

Harry laughed. "You’re welcome." And he walked into the dining room to join the others.

"Draco, you look different with your hair like that," Teddy said.

Andromeda studied her nephew and nodded. "I like it."

"See?" Narcissa said. She turned to Teddy. "I always tell him to leave that gel out."

"Mother, really."

"What? You have such nice hair. Why you pull it back with that gunk is beyond me."

Harry snorted. He agreed but didn’t dare say anything. Not with Malfoy glaring at him like that. He raised his hands in defeat, barely holding back laughter. "I didn’t say a word," he said. "I wouldn’t dare comment on someone else’s hair." He ran his hand through his own, now suddenly self-conscious.

"I should say not."

"Draco!" his mother said.

"It’s no problem, Mrs Malfoy." At her look, he corrected himself. "Narcissa. I’ve never been able to tame it. Family trait, I’m afraid." He rubbed the back of his head like he used to in school. Damn. He thought he’d managed to rid himself of that nervous habit.

"I have a couple of spells I could show you, if you’d like."

He wasn’t sure if she was serious, insulting him or just taking the mickey. When he caught the satisfied smirk on Malfoy’s face, he opted for serious. "Thanks, Mrs – Narcissa. I may take you up on that offer." Once more he ran his hand through his hair before tucking the offending hand under his leg.

Malfoy, perhaps equally uncomfortable with his own hair’s current state, ran his hand through his hair too.

"What’s that?" Teddy asked Malfoy, tapping his own finger. "Is that new?"

Malfoy looked down at his hand and removed the ring he had on his finger and passed it to Teddy. "No, it’s not new. It’s my family ring. See that? It’s an ‘M’ for Malfoy. And that’s our family crest. My father gave that to me when I turned seventeen."

"Oh, I thought it was good luck to give a watch," Harry said.

Malfoy looked at him curiously, as though he were some oddity. Harry was about to apologise for being rude ... or something ... when Malfoy said, "Yes, it is. I’m surprised you knew that."

"Mrs Weasley, Ron’s mom, told me."

"Ah, of course. Yes, it is customary to give a wizard a watch when he comes of age, but in some pureblood families a ring may also be bestowed upon him. My mother gave me a pocket watch – it’s reserved for more formal occasions, so I don’t have it with me now – and my father gave me this ring."

Glad he hadn’t, in fact, made some grave social etiquette mistake, Harry smiled. "That’s ... nice, actually." Again, Malfoy gave him that strange look. Narcissa smiled and nodded at him. 

"Do you have one?" Teddy asked Harry, passing Malfoy’s ring to him.

"No." He took the ring from Teddy and looked at it, wondering if his father would have given him a Potter family ring, had he lived. "My father died when I was a baby. I don’t have anything like this from him." He handed it back to Malfoy, avoiding the other man’s eyes.

A couple of uncomfortable moments later, Teddy said, "Maybe Uncle Lucius can get a ring like Draco’s made for you, too."

Harry choked on the mouthful of water he’d just made the mistake of sipping. Malfoy looked horrified and Narcissa cleared her throat. Andromeda pressed her lips together in what looked like a concerted effort not to laugh. Once he recovered, Harry asked, "Why would your Uncle Lucius do something like that for me? He’s not my father." _Thank Merlin._

"Because you’re family, silly."

Harry looked at Malfoy, but he was looking at Teddy. "Harry and I aren’t family," Malfoy said.

"Sure you are. You’re my mom’s cousin, which makes you my cousin, and Uncle Harry is my godfather."

"Well, yes, but --"

"And Uncle Harry’s godfather was Grandma and Aunt Narcissa’s cousin, right?" Andromeda nodded. "So he’s family twice over."

Malfoy smiled. "Well, I suppose that’s true, in a way. But he’s not a blood relative, at least not a close blood one."

"What do you mean, ‘not close’?" Harry asked.

"And Uncle Harry says we’re family, no matter about blood," Teddy added.

Narcissa smiled at Teddy. "Your Uncle Harry is correct. He is your family," she assured him, surprising both Harry and, if the look on Andromeda’s face was any indication, her sister as well. "But he’s not a Malfoy, even if--" She turned to Harry now "--somewhere back in our family tree, there may be a connection to the Potters."

"Well, now that’s settled," Andromeda said, putting an end to the decidedly awkward conversation, and leaving no room for more questions on the topic, "shall we eat?"  



	11. Chapter 11

Harry tried to focus at work, but his mind kept – quite unhelpfully – going back to the prior evening. He’d somehow managed to survive not only a pleasant meal, but a bloody snowball fight with Malfoy. And – who would ever have believed it – an entire evening with Narcissa Malfoy. Okay, he only ‘survived’ the snowball fight because neither he nor Malfoy was about to do anything to his mother. Who knew how it might have devolved without her intervention, but still. She’d turned out to be more like a real person that Harry had ever given her credit for. Sure, he knew she loved her son; she wouldn’t have lied to Voldemort otherwise. But snowball fights? And Slytherin champ to boot?

And what had come over Harry anyway? Joking with Malfoy. Messing his hair, for crying out loud. It was too bizarre. Perhaps if he’d been drinking, yeah, but that was just ... well. He and Malfoy had just been beaten handily by Narcissa and it somehow felt like the most natural thing in the world to tease him about it. Almost like they were friends.

Of course the look Malfoy had given him reminded Harry – now, if not the previous night – that at least one of them knew better. It had to be all this nonsense that Luna and Hermione were shovelling his way. Why he let them, and worse, why he allowed himself to think in that context, was another story. Best just to be polite and not think any more of it.

Except he couldn’t shake the image of Malfoy with his hair loose and all messy. Harry was losing his mind. That had to be it.

"You coming?" Harry looked up to see Ron standing at his door. "Meeting, remember. All hands."

Shit. He’d forgotten. "Yeah, sorry. Got distracted."

Ron scrutinised his desk. "Apparently so." 

Harry followed Ron’s glance and realised, as he suspected Ron had too, that the selection of files – right down to the picture of a Niffler caught in a Muggle jewellery store atop the closest pile – looked exactly the same as it had when he’d walked in that morning. 

He got up and made his way to the door. "Let’s go."

They managed to slip into the boardroom just before the meeting started. Robards ushered them in and began. "Right, then. With the Christmas season upon us, we’ve reviewed all requests for time off and have finalised the work schedules. Expect them posted later today. Thanks to those who volunteered to come in so that others were able to take time off."

"Tell me you didn’t volunteer again this year," Ron whispered. "Because if you did --"

Harry shook his head. "Relax. If I get called in, it won’t be my doing. Not this time." Last year, he didn’t bother to add, had been rather a different set of circumstances. He doubted anyone had wanted to see him and he certainly hadn’t wanted to show his face anywhere that wasn’t required by work. He’d been grateful to have his office to hide in and a handful of calls to respond to. He’d never told anyone else this, but his job had given him purpose, something to focus on, to get him through the holidays. It may even have earned him a bit of goodwill with others in the office, too.

"And, moving on," Robards said, "we have an update from our social committee. Julia."

Julia Montgomery stepped forward. "Good morning, everyone. I hope you’re all as excited as we are about this year’s Christmas party." Harry looked at the other committee members who looked decidedly less enthusiastic than she – and certainly not excited. Bradford, junior most Auror who’d been voluntold by his team leader that he’d be representing them on the committee, rolled his eyes and looked positively ready to gag at Montgomery’s cheeriness. Ron sniggered beside him. "After careful consideration, we’ve decided on a Secret Santa gift exchange to take place at the party. Everyone will draw a name from the jar at the back of the room as you leave the meeting." 

Whispers of excitement mingled with a couple of groans and some concerned chatter. Harry suspected the ‘careful consideration’ consisted of Mongomery suggesting it and no one bothering to put up a fight. He didn’t care one way or the other. If he got someone he knew, great. Otherwise, he’d just ask Hermione or Ginny what to get. "Gifts must be tasteful and in accordance with Ministry policy." This got a few more groans, which she ignored. "They should be no more than five galleons, though we recommend two to four, and they should be wrapped similarly – we’ll have gift wrap samples posted later today – and should be brought to my office prior to the party, in order to maintain secrecy."

"What if we draw our own name?" asked someone Harry couldn’t see.

She looked smug. "We’ve charmed them so that doesn’t happen."

"Wow," Ron whispered in mock amazement. "She’s thought of everything, hasn’t she?"

Harry chuckled. "Give her a break. She’s just keen."

He coughed what sounded like "Percy."

They ended the meeting with Montgomery telling them to "Please wait until you’re back in your own office to read your giftee’s name. And don’t tell anyone whose name you draw."

When Harry got back to his office, he opened his slip of paper. _Blaise Zabini._

He tossed the paper on top of the Niffler photo. He knew next to nothing about Zabini, except that he’d been arrogant in school and remained so. He doubted Ginny or Hermione would be of any help either, given how Blaise had loathed Muggle-borns and blood traitors back in school. Not that Blaise had said any such thing since the war – he’d never have been hired as an Auror if he had – but likewise he hadn’t said or done anything renouncing those ideas either. Hermione would probably recommend something supporting House Elf Rights and Ginny would likely suggest something nasty from Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes that would attack him. As amusing as the latter idea might be, it would likely be career limiting. Probably best not to ask either of them.

He glared at the offending paper. "What the hell am I supposed to get that git?"  



	12. Chapter 12

Harry lifted his collar against the cold, strolling through the streets and wondering what on earth he could get for someone he didn’t like and knew next to nothing about. 

He looked inside one shop full of festive cheer, if the sign out front was to be believed. They had ornaments galore, from gaudy to ornate, cheep to exhorbitant, frilly and prissy to obnoxious and obscene – the last of which being part of the ‘discrete selection’ in the back room. Then there was a large selection of hearts in varying designs. 

He picked up one with very Gryffindor colouring – admittedly not difficult to find at Christmas – and chuckled at the imagined look of horror on Zabini’s face if he got that. Harry put it back and pressed through the throng to exit the now busy store, wondering from where all these people had suddenly appeared.

He skipped the next couple of shops – an apothecary and a sweets shop – figuring he ought to put a bit more thought into the thing. It would have been fairly easy – what was it Malfoy had said: chocolates for girls, jokes for boys? – if the team leads hadn’t been advised to set an example. 

Chocolates, of course, would be acceptable, if a bit of a cop out, but jokes? Not bloody likely. He’d hold onto the chocolate as his go-to in a pinch, if he was unable to get something else.

The next shop that looked promising had a display window full of candles and nuts and other such seasonal knickknacks. He went inside and was immediately bombarded by Christmas. Bells and train whistles and Christmas carols fought for dominance over the chatter and excitement of the shoppers. His eyes nearly began to water from the pungent scents from candles, incense, cloves and colognes. When an enchanted bit of garland started wrapping itself around Harry’s shoulders, he extracted himself from it and fled.

He breathed in a deep gulp of fresh, non-perfumed air and began to relax. He supposed he could get Zabini something Quidditch related. But did he play? He was so pompous he probably didn’t want to get all dirty or windblown. Did he even own a broom? And did he even watch the sport? And if he did, what team did he support? No, Harry supposed Quiddich merchandise was out.

He dismissed the ideas of clothing or cologne – too personal. The same went for music or books, since he had no idea what might interest Zabini. Maybe food? He grinned, imagining Zabini’s disgust if Harry gave him a traditional Muggle Christmas cake, complete with those ghastly candied cherries that Dudley loved. Then again, who knew? He might actually like the stuff. Harry sighed. No matter if Zabini liked it or not, he was sure the gift would be perceived as ‘not in the spirit of the season’ by his superiors. Stupid politics. Even in the new and improved Ministry, he had to play the stupid games.

He bought himself a hot chocolate and sat on a bench, soaking up the slightly harried atmosphere of the mid-December after work shoppers. Not as crazy as the weekend crowds, but harried all the same. He rather thought everyone here was determined, as was he, to avoid the weekend crush if at all possible. Harry sipped the chocolate and enjoyed the feel of it sliding down, warming his insides. He blew out a breath and smiled at the puff of cold air. There was something about the chill in the air that calmed Harry, even when he was shopping.

He thought back to the other day, building a snowman and having a snowball fight at Andromeda’s, and smiled even more. He’d had fun that day. And not just with his godson, who had been a champ when they’d postponed their toboggan ride, but surprisingly also with Malfoy. _Oh, for the love of -- Why couldn’t he keep the man out of his thoughts for a few hours?_

Then he realised that Malfoy might be the answer to Harry’s problem. He’d been friends with Zabini in school. Not best mates or anything, but they’d spent a bit of time together. Certainly Malfoy would be able to come up with a better idea for a gift than Harry could.

He shook that thought aside. No. He would not resort to calling Malfoy up out of the blue to ask him for a favour. Even if he was the person who could help him most. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone whose name he’d drawn. The rule probably meant not to talk to anyone at work, but ... they had said anyone. So, no. He would not ask Malfoy, or anyone else for that matter. He was a grown man. He could figure this out.

Store after store he passed, watching staff hanging garlands, designing window displays, stuffing stockings and wrapping boxes. Still, nothing came to him.

He was about to call it a day, after his stomach growled for the third time, when he saw his one last hope for wrapping this up today. After all, he might be arrogant, but Zabini was a fellow Auror. Surely Harry could find something in Wary Wares that Zabini might appreciate. He sure hoped so, because he really did not want to spend any more time on this.

Harry opened the door to the shop and went inside, pleased that soft music played in the background and no scented anything attacked his nose. After the war, stores of this nature – with products designed to help detect, protect from and defend against dark magic – had popped up all over the place, riding the coattails of fear and grief. Most had proven to be unreliable at best and irresponsible or downright dangerous at worst, and Arthur Weasley had shuttered a fair few such establishments. But Wary Wares had been one of the few to survive, and certainly the one to most thrive. Early on, the owners had worked with the Ministry, and over time had established themselves as the place to go for all your defensive needs.

Harry passed the books on dark spells – ones focussed on detection and defence, rather than the dark arts themselves – and made his way to the dark detectors. He eyed the foe glasses (too pricey), the probity probes (too probity), and numerous concealment revealing devices, all of which were rather large and cumbersome. They even had a scaled-down version of the waterfall beneath Gringott’s that you could drape over an entryway. 

Then he saw just what he’d been looking for: sneakoscopes. These latest versions weren’t the ones of old. They came in all sorts of colours, sizes and designs, with varying detection levels. Some whirled, others whined, and the ones aimed at younger customers popped or bounced or spit out bubbles. Harry thought one of those might make a nice gift for Teddy. He took his time reviewing the features before deciding on a compact one with a Ministry stamp of approval, so presumably it was functional rather than a novelty. It was tastefully designed, had a silent mode and would fit into your pants pocket. And it came in just at the top end of the price limit they’d been given.

Opting not to have it gift-wrapped – after all, they were all to be wrapped similarly – Harry paid for the gift, thanked the clerk, and left the shop feeling rather accomplished. 

When once more his thoughts turned to Malfoy – this time lingering on several items he thought the other man might like – he willed himself to shove those thoughts aside.  



	13. Chapter 13

"Got a minute?" Harry nearly jumped at the sound of Ron’s voice at his door. He’d been immersed in the latest reports in the niffler jewellery theft case. It had all the signs of being an amateur job, yet the culprit had continued to elude his team.

He tossed the file away in disgust. "Sure, what’s up?"

Ron shrugged. "Not much. Just wondering if you feel like grabbing lunch later. Hermione made her famous tuna casserole last night and I have leftovers today."

Harry laughed. "Enough said." Hermione’s casserole _was_ famous, but for all the wrong reasons. "Hey, at least you can toss it and not be worried you’ll get it as leftovers tonight."

"Too true. So, you free for lunch? I’ve got a taste for an overstuffed deli sandwich."

Harry’s stomach growled in response and he realised he hadn’t eaten anything since he’d shovelled a couple of pieces of toast down his throat this morning. He’d been up half the night and when he had slept, he’d had odd dreams. Ones that woke him, but hadn’t lingered long enough or clearly enough for him to make heads or tails of them. All he did remember was blond hair and grey eyes and why the hell was Malfoy haunting his dreams now too? When his alarm had gone that morning, he’d thrown it unceremoniously across the room and, as a result, had been late getting up.

"Yeah," he said, running a hand over his face, hoping that might help him shed the grogginess. "I could do with something. Sooner rather than later, if you can get away early."

"Had a rough night?" Ron asked, giving him the once over, clearly looking for signs of a night out. Harry sensed a bit of envy, if he wasn’t mistaken. Ron hadn’t joined the regulars for their pints too often since Rose had come along, and though he hid it well, and most of the time loved being with his family, there were times it got to him. Not for any nefarious reason, just to have a night out with the boys. And Harry, being single, represented the freedom that every once in a while Ron craved.

"Nothing exciting, I’m afraid." Harry picked up his mug only to discover it was empty. He put it down. "Just couldn’t sleep."

That seemed to cheer Ron up a bit. "Ah, well, I feel your pain. There’s nothing quite like having a kid in the house to deprive someone of a good night’s sleep."

Harry remembered all too well how Teddy had been as a baby, and he’d had his fair share of sleepless nights as a result. Truth be told, Harry didn’t mind that one bit – being deprived of a good night’s sleep, under the right circumstances, wasn’t such a bad thing. "Alas, no child, no booze and no wild night. Just restless, I suppose."

"Alright, then. I’ll swing by just before noon and we can head to the deli, yeah?"

***

They got their sandwiches and sat down at the end of the counter. Harry dove into his beef and cheese melt with such fervour he might nearly have beaten Ron for the most disgusted look earned from Hermione, but he didn’t care. He was famished.

Ron snorted. "Hungry much?"

Harry grinned and took another bite. "Only had toast this morning."

Ron shuddered, no doubt shocked that any grown man would choose to forego any meal. "So, what are you bringing to Luna’s on Saturday?"

Each year, their group of friends got together for a potluck Christmas dinner and this year was Luna’s turn to host. "Hadn’t thought about it, to be honest."

"Well, if you wanted to bring those meatballs of yours, you won’t get any complaints from me."

Those ‘meatballs of his’ were actually from a Muggle restaurant in Canterbury. He’d had them one night when he was working on a case down that way and had been thrilled to find that they sold a frozen version of the meatballs along with jars of their sauce. Harry just tossed the lot into a slow cooker, like the waitress had recommended, and a couple hours later, voila! Instant ‘home cooked’ meal that everyone raved about. He’d never let anyone in on his secret before and likely never would.

"Yeah, I suppose I could cobble together a pot of those."

"And your Christmas cookies?"

Harry chuckled. "Sure, why not?" He didn’t have anything pressing going on in the next couple of days, besides work, so he could do some Christmas baking. He’d loved Christmas ever since his first year at Hogwarts, and he liked to make the easy-but-always-a-hit sugar cookies cut into all sorts of shapes.

"Remember the year George transfigured them all into ‘twinkling willies’ and Mum nearly gave him a concussion thwacking him over the head?"

Harry laughed. "I’d forgotten about that."

Ron shoulders shook as he bit into his sandwich. "Good times."

"Speaking of Christmas cocks," Harry said. Ron laughed when a woman who’d sat down next to Harry tutted. He lowered his voice and continued. "I was out shopping yesterday and saw these for sale." He pulled out his camera, scrolled to the picture he’d taken in the ‘discrete’ section and showed it to Ron.

Ron choked on a mouthful. "Warning, mate!" 

"What, ‘Christmas cocks’ wasn’t enough of a warning?" The woman tutted again.

Ignoring Harry’s comment and the woman, Ron took a large gulp of his drink and looked again at the picture. "I’ll assume you meant the getup was for sale, not the man." 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

"Tell me you didn’t buy that."

"Course not. I’ve no reason to, have I? Just thought it was hilarious."

"For the love of all things holy, don’t show George. He’ll have us all opening one of those Christmas Day in front of Mum."

Harry chuckled, picturing both Arthur’s and Molly’s faces. "I dunno. It might be fun, if only to see her whack George over the head again."

"Promise me," he said, now sounding desperate. He shifted in his seat. "That thing doesn’t look too comfortable."

Harry, suspecting Ron might not be far off the mark to imagine Hermione expecting him to wear it, laughed again. "Deal," he said, "but you owe me." No sense letting an opportunity slip past him.

"Done."

They finished off their meal in silence, Harry trying very hard not to imagine a certain blond someone wearing a reindeer thong.  



	14. Chapter 14

Harry hauled the toboggan back inside and put it away. They’d spent hours on the hills and were numb to the bone. "You know where there’s lots of snow?" he asked a red-faced Teddy who was rubbing warmth back into his hands.

"The north pole?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Just for that, you can make the hot chocolate."

"Okay." Teddy ran to the kitchen, flung his jacket over a chair and pulled out the milk and chocolate sauce. He turned to Harry and grinned.

"So, besides the north pole – and the south pole, before you suggest that too – do you have a guess where there might be lots of snow right now?"

Teddy poured entirely too much milk into a saucepan, turned on the burner and scrunched his nose in thought. "The Himalayas?"

Harry chuckled. "Well, yes. Probably. Most likely."

"That’s where the abominable snowman lives, Yeti, right?"

"Yes, he does." Harry recalled Hermione gifting Teddy with some books on magical creatures. Yeti must have been one of them. "How about you guess closer to home?"

Teddy squeezed the bottle, dropping a really long stream of chocolate sauce into the pot, then took out a spoon and began stirring. Harry resisted the urge to check just how chocolatey it was. "I give up."

"Scotland."

"No way."

"Well, Hogwarts does anyway."

"Really?"

"Yup. I have it on good authority – from Hagrid, no less – that there are mounds of it all over."

Teddy continued to stir, but his face dropped. "I wish I was at Hogwarts. It sounds awesome."

Harry smiled. "Not too much longer now, little man."

He turned his scowl on Harry, who simply raised a brow in challenge. He turned back and continued stirring.

Harry got two mugs from the cupboard and asked, "Marshmallows?"

"Well, duh."

Harry got the bag of mini marshmallows from the pantry, hiding his smile. "Right, then. What say you to a trip to Hogwarts?"

"But ... am I allowed?"

Harry plunked a handful of marshmallows in each mug and put the package away. "You’ll be with me, and we’ll be visiting Hagrid, so I’d say that’s a yes."

His eyes widened and Harry motioned for him to keep stirring. "Can I go inside and everything?"

Harry imagined McGonagall’s face and smiled. "I’ll see what we can arrange."

"When do we go?"

"Tomorrow, if your grandmother says it’s alright. Hagrid has a bit of a surprise lined up."

"What is it?"

"That looks done." Harry reached around him and turned off the burner. He poured the hot chocolate into the mugs and the marshmallows began to swell. Teddy smacked his lips. "As for the surprise, you’ll just have to wait and see. Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you about it, would it?"

"I suppose not."

***

Sure enough, Andromeda was more than happy to let Harry take Teddy with him to Hogwarts. When they tumbled out of the Floo into Hagrid’s hut, Teddy looked around in amazement. Then he turned a curious eye to Harry. "Is this the castle?"

Hagrid let out a bark of a laugh. "’Course not." He pulled Teddy to the window and pointed up at the school. "That’s the castle."

"Wow!"

Harry smiled, remembering the first time he’d seen Hogwarts. "It’s even better up close."

"Can we go?"

Harry looked at Hagrid. "Headmistress McGonagall is expecting us for tea." Teddy’s face fell. "Oh, come on now. Yer to be gettin’ a surprise here before we go up there."

Teddy looked at Harry who just shrugged. "This is Hagrid’s show. It’s not up to me to say."

Hagrid pulled on his coat and gloves. "C’mon then, the both of ye. I thought yer might like to see the grounds," he said to Teddy.

They followed Hagrid out of the hut, passed a handsomely decorated tree and made their way towards the Forbidden Forest.

Harry felt a tug on his jacket. He glanced down at a nervous looking Teddy. "Where are we going?" Teddy looked towards the trees. "Is that the Forbidden Forest?"

Harry smiled. "It is indeed, but don’t worry. We won’t be going too far in."

Teddy nodded but stayed very close to Harry as they followed Hagrid. When they reached a clearing, Teddy gasped. "Is that a sleigh?"

"Right you are there, Teddy," Hagrid said, looking very pleased with himself. "Reckon ye want ter go fer a ride?"

"Can we?" Teddy asked Harry.

Harry grinned. "That’s why we’re here."

"Cool!" And he took off, all fear of the forest gone, and jumped into the sleigh.

"Thought yer might like this." Hagrid laughed. "Alrigh’ if we join ye?"

"Definitely!" Once they were seated, Teddy asked, "Is the sleigh magic?"

"Not strictly speakin’, no," Hagrid said. "There’s some warming charms been put on it, and there might be a bell or whistle or two." He winked at Harry. "But today we’ll just be lettin’ the thestrals take us round."

"Thestrals?"

"They’re invisible to everyone that hasn’t seen someone die," Harry explained, looking at the creatures, thankful that Teddy couldn’t see them. "Let’s hope they stay that way for you for a long time yet."

Teddy shuddered briefly, but then smiled widely as the Thestrals took off and they slid smoothly along the path out onto the grounds. Harry watched him, wondering if that was the look he’d had when he’d ridden in the first year boats across the lake to the castle.

As they rounded a turn in the path, heading towards the greenhouses, a horrific rendition of _Baby It’s Cold Outside_ met his ears. "What’s that?" he asked.

"House elf choir," Hagrid replied. "Fer the life of me, I don’ know why anyone would want ter hear that, but ... well, ter tell the truth, I think our Hermione put that idea in their heads a while back. Summat abou’ singin’ ter the plants. Neville – that’d be Professor Longbottom to you, Teddy – has em practicin’ near the ones that won’t be affected., jus’ in case the music isn’t ter their taste. Not so sure the elves want ter be doin’ it at all, really, ‘cept maybe ter get Hermione ter stop pesterin’ em about it."

"Neville too, I’d wager." Harry laughed. "Sounds like Hermione. She can pester most anyone into doing anything."

Hagrid shook with laughter. "Right you are, Harry. Right you are."

They circled the grounds until it was nearly time for tea.

As they climbed out of the carriage and made their way back to Hagrid’s hut before heading up to the castle, Teddy’s eyes gleamed with excitement. "I can’t wait to come here, Uncle Harry."

"You’ll love it," Harry said, thinking about all the adventures he’d had in his time here. Knowing that Teddy would get to experience it without the shadow of Voldemort looming, he couldn’t imagine his godson not loving it.

Harry thought ahead to the day he would take Teddy to King’s Cross Station to see him off, he and Andromeda waving goodbye as the train pulled away. He’d be pleased for Teddy, he knew. 

_But I’ll miss him when he goes._   



	15. Chapter 15

"Harry!" Luna opened the door and greeted him with a one-armed hug. "Come on in."

"Happy Christmas, Luna." He went inside, gave her a peck on the cheek as he passed, then lifted his arms to indicate the food. "Let me put these down and I’ll give you a proper hug."

"Mmm," She smiled. "Your famous meatballs?"

"Yup." He indicated his left hand. "And cookies." He indicated his right. "Special requests from Ron." 

"Mmm," she said again. "We’re running out of space on the dining table, so you can put the meatballs there and the cookies in the kitchen. It’s a bit of a disaster in there, but you should be able to find a spot for them."

"Will do." Harry slipped off his shoes, gave a cursory nod and called out a quick, "Happy Christmas" to the guests in the front room, then made his way to the dining room. She wasn’t kidding: the table was packed with all sorts of delicious looking food.

He found a spot near the back for his meatballs and put a quick warming charm on them before heading to the kitchen to deposit the cookies. As he put them on the table, he noticed a scrumptious looking cake, complete with – he leaned over and breathed in the scent – a vanilla rum drizzle. 

"Mmm. Gorgeous."

The fridge door closed and Harry jumped. He hadn’t realised anyone else was in the room. "Well, I know I look good, Potter," Malfoy said, now leaning against the fridge with his arms folded over his chest, "but I hardly expected _you_ to notice, much less acknowledge it out loud."

Harry ran his eyes over the other man. He was smartly dressed in black trousers and a steel grey button down that set his eyes off perfectly and had a slight sheen to it, looking soft enough to touch. Harry resisted. The collar was open, making him look more casual than Harry recalled ever seeing him since school, and yet still so put together. "Yes, well ... there’s no denying you clean up nicely these days, Malfoy, but I was actually talking about the cake." He pointed needlessly to the cake he’d been admiring a moment ago.

Malfoy blinked at Harry, momentarily at a loss for words. Then he tilted his head slightly and said, "Is this more of your _teasing banter_ or did you just compliment me?"

Suddenly feeling incredibly awkward, Harry said, "No teasing." He cleared his throat. "Just stating the obvious."

Malfoy smiled, casually pushed off the fridge and closed the gap between them in three steps. He did not resist touching Harry’s shirt and Harry was suddenly very glad he’d chosen the brushed silk one Hermione had bought that she said brought out the green of his eyes. Malfoy adjusted the collar and ran his hands over Harry’s shoulders. Their eyes met and Harry couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away. "You clean up alright yourself, Potter."

"Harry, where’s that hug you promised me?" Luna burst into the room, took in the scene, then grinned. Malfoy dropped his arms and Harry immediately missed their warmth. "Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve interrupted." Before Harry could say anything in response, she started to back out of the room. "I’ll just leave the two of you alone." Then she turned and went back to the front room.

Spell broken, Harry stepped away from Malfoy. "So, I guess we should join the others."

"Sure." Malfoy chuckled. "Lead the way."  



	16. Chapter 16

Harry entered Diagon Alley the next afternoon, determined to complete his Christmas shopping before the crazed rush a few days before the 25th. He’d bought most of the main gifts for everyone – all of Mr Weasley’s gifts coming from Muggle London, of course – but still had a handful of other things to buy. He willed himself to focus on the task at hand so he wouldn’t forget anything and have to come back, but his mind kept drifting to Luna’s party. She’d invited Malfoy because, as she’d explained, he was her friend and what better time than Christmas to bring different friends together. He wasn’t so sure that was true, or at least not her only reason.

Repeatedly, Harry had found himself in the company of Malfoy. Not that he’d tried to avoid the man, but circumstances just seemed to conspire to have them suddenly appear by each other’s side, or be pulled into a conversation in which the other was taking part, or asked for insight into something or other. By the end of the evening, he’d been quite sure Luna hadn’t been the only one conspiring. With the exception of Ginny and Ron and possibly a couple of others, Harry was quite sure everyone else had been in on it.

Several times, when he and Malfoy had been drawn together into a conversation _yet again_ , they’d shared a knowing glance, which told him that they’d both caught on to their friends’ shenanigans, though Malfoy hadn’t seemed particularly bothered by it. More bemused than anything. Truth be told, Harry hadn’t minded either. In fact, he’d found out quite a bit about the other man and what he’d been up to since school.

As he passed by the Owl post, Harry made a mental note to send cards to the MACUSA group he’d worked with last time he was in the States. They were a good bunch and had made him feel at home when he’d been there on his own for an unexpectedly lengthy stay. As a result, they’d kept in touch.

Moving on, Harry picked up some packages of chocolate – always good to have on hand, particularly if he found himself invited somewhere or having people over on short notice – and some goodies to keep around the house. He now had enough cookies to feed even Dudley over the entirety of the holidays, after getting a bit carried away the other day, so he didn’t need any ingredients for that. 

He glanced into Ollivander’s, but the wand maker wasn’t there. Harry knew from Luna, who kept in touch with everyone it seemed, that he still made most of the wands, but left the day-to-day operation of the shop to a young import from Eastern Europe Harry presumed was the man standing behind the counter. He’d go in another day when he had more time. Not needing robes or cauldrons or tea, he skipped by the various shops carrying those wares as well. But when he spotted the apothecary, his mind went back, predictably, to Malfoy.

After the war and the trials, Malfoy had spent a couple of years in France with his parents, where he’d worked under one of their more renowned potioneers, much to the chagrin of Lucius. Apparently, his father had envisioned Draco working alongside him, managing the family money and schmoozing with the right people in the right places to reinstate the family name. Much to Harry’s surprise, Draco had wanted nothing to do with his father’s plans. He’d stayed with his parents for two reasons, and two reasons only: he had no independent funding to support himself while in training and – most importantly – he loved his mother and wanted to keep an eye on her. It seemed his hero-worship of his father was a thing of the past.

He’d received his licence and had continued to work under the French potioneer’s tutelage for another year, eventually setting himself up in an apartment in a wizarding village on the outskirts of Paris. It had worked out well for him, but he’d missed England. When his parents had announced their intended return, he’d come with them. With the money he’d saved, he was able to secure a flat in Wiltshire – close enough to visit his parents regularly, but far enough to remain independent and just out of Lucius’ reach. But when finding work in England had proven difficult, and his lack of employment had threatened his independence, his mother had provided him some seed money with which to open his own lab. Several years later, he had a healthy business, supplying many of the country’s apothecaries with both standard potions and some of his own signature ones.

He’d paid his mother back in full, despite her protestations, with Lucius none the wiser, and he was now quite comfortable, thank you very much. Harry rather thought that independence suited him.

Still not much for potions himself, despite his stellar performance in his sixth year at school, Harry bypassed the place and made his way to Quality Quidditch Supplies, a shop where he knew he could get something for half the people on his list. He picked up a few items for Ron, Ginny, George, Angelina, Bill and Charlie, then made his way to Obscurus Books to find something out of the ordinary for Hermione. He left with not one but three books – one on Nordic runes for Hermione, the latest on household spells for Mrs Weasley and, for Fleur, a historical book on Veela influence in France and beyond that the shopkeeper had recommended.

He picked up some quills and parchment at Scribbulus, and some fancy teas for Andromeda at Rosa Lee’s, and then he was nearly done. Last stop, Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes. He braced himself for utter mayhem before diving in. Fifteen minutes later, having spent five of those chatting to George, he emerged with an assortment for Teddy that would, no doubt, earn him a stern look from Andromeda and an equally excited reaction from his godson. He’d already got a stuffed toy for Rose and didn’t dare risk Hermione’s wrath with something from Wheezes for her daughter. Not yet, anyway.

Feeling utterly spent, but thoroughly successful, he decided to take a walk on this fine, winter evening. Sending his packages home with a wave of his wand, he turned down a path through the park. He’d taken longer than he’d realised and the sun had already begun to set, but the Christmas lights lit the way cheerily.

As he neared the end of his circuit, he stood to enjoy a carolling group and breathed in the crisp, fresh air. As they sang, he thought about the next day and wondered what it would hold for him. He’d promised to take Teddy skating and somehow had managed to invite Malfoy to join them. He knew he’d been hoodwinked, as Luna had prompted the conversation, then casually thrown in that Draco was a wonderful skater. Malfoy had looked nearly as surprised by her comment as Harry had, which had, naturally, prompted Harry to say, "Oh, really? So, Malfoy, you think you could keep up?" Which, of course, Luna had known he’d do. 

And by the laughter in Malfoy’s eyes as he said, "You’re on," he’d known it too. Thank Merlin Harry wasn’t this transparent when dealing with suspects or he’d be dead by now. Whatever. It was done. And they’d done alright at Andromeda’s the last time they’d spent time together. And, unless he was very much mistaken, there’d been _something_ there in the kitchen at Luna’s. He knew it, and was pretty sure Malfoy did too. And even if Harry had misread the situation and there wasn’t anything, they were adults and the past was behind them. They could get along just fine. Besides, Teddy would be there, so they’d both behave. Or something. At least they wouldn’t throw punches.

He was jolted from his musings when the carolling stopped, the singers announced they were taking a break, and the crowd began to disperse. Harry thanked the carollers, wished them a Merry Christmas, and put a handful of Galleons in the collection tin they’d set up to help feed the less fortunate on Christmas.

He spent the rest of his walk, the trip home and most of the night wondering what on Earth he was doing and what he was getting himself into. Even still, he fell asleep quickly that night, with a smile on his face, looking quite forward to the next day.  



	17. Chapter 17

"Harry, got a minute?" Ron, not waiting for an answer, strolled into his office and planted himself down in Harry’s guest chair.

Harry frowned. "Not really. I was supposed to take Teddy skating in ten minutes but Robards scheduled a meeting with me. He wants an update on that stupid niffler jewellery case in half an hour and I need to prepare."

"Any good leads?" When Harry shook his head, he said, "I’ll make it quick, then."

Harry sighed and pointedly looked at his clock. "You have five minutes. No more."

"I’ll be out before that, mate." He tossed a card across Harry’s desk. It had the typical Christmas cover, complete with fully decorated tree and gift-wrapped parcels beneath. When he opened it, however, instead of _Merry Christmas_ or _Happy Holidays_ , it said "Don’t worry when I fight with you, worry when I stop because it means there’s nothing left for us to fight for."

He looked up at his friend in bewilderment. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? The card wasn’t even signed.

"What do you think?" Ron asked.

"About what?"

"The card, obviously."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Funny, I’d worked that bit out for myself. But what about it?"

"Do you think it’s okay?"

"Look, Ron, I’ve got a meeting to prepare for and I’m already going to be late picking up Teddy. Ask me a question that maybe, just maybe, doesn’t require me to read your mind."

Ron shuffled in his seat and picked up the card. "Mione and I had a fight."

"No, really?" This was no shock to Harry since bickering was pretty much how they’d spent half their time together since their school days.

Ron looked up at him with desperation. That got Harry’s attention. "This was a big one. Not like the usual. But, well, I love her and I love Rose and I love my life, only ..."

"Only sometimes you’d like the freedom to do whatever you’d like?" Harry’d known this about Ron, particularly when he’d been left out of the pub nights. And whether out of guilt or duty, Ron had skipped quite a few lately.

"Exactly! You understand."

Harry scowled. "Not really. You’ve got an amazing and very understanding wife. If you needed space once in a while – a night out with your mates, for instance – she’d be fine with that."

"You think?"

"Of course. But then you’d need to do the same for her. Without waiting until she asks. Let her know you appreciate everything she does."

"I do!"

"I know that, but does she? Do you tell her?"

"I --"

"Look, Ron, we’re best mates. We always will be. But Hermione’s my friend too. And she’s an amazing woman. I don’t know why she ever started hanging out with the likes of the two of us, never mind marrying you. Don’t fuck it up."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. He looked at the card. "So, the card."

"Did you buy that for her or the other way round?"

"I bought it. I let the woman in the store convince me it was a good one. You know, because we fight a lot, but ..."

"Then give it to her, tell her you love her, and tell me what night you need off. I’ll take Rose and you take your wife for a night on the town. Then you can talk about all this uninterrupted." Harry knew how difficult actual conversations could be sometimes with little humans around.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Now go back to work so I can get back to mine."

"Thanks, Harry."

"Sure." He didn’t know quite when he’d turned into a marriage counsellor, or why anyone would come to him when his longest relationship had been with Ginny (and look at how that’d turned out) but he supposed he knew his friends best. And he’d been mediating things between them for years now. If only he could do something about his own love life.

Fifteen minutes later, there was another knock at his door. "I told you, Ron, I’ve a meeting with Robards in --" He finally looked up from his papers to see a tentative Teddy and smirking Malfoy at his door. "Er ... sorry, thought you were Ron coming for more advice."

Malfoy raised a brow. "Do tell."

Harry tossed his quill onto the desk and, ignoring Malfoy, addressed Teddy. "Hey, little man. Did your Grandma tell you I had to work late?"

He seemed to relax when Harry motioned them in. "Yup, but when I told Draco, he said we needed to come right over here."

Harry looked up at the still smirking man. "Oh, he did, did he? And why might that be?"

Malfoy pulled a paper takeaway bag from behind his back, dropped it on Harry’s desk and said, "We have it on good authority that you probably have not eaten a proper amount of food to sustain a grown man."

Harry looked at the bag, then at Malfoy, then at Teddy. "What?"

"Grandma says you never take care of yourself. She told us you never do when you work late. So Draco said that _we_ would take care of you."

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Actually, what I said was that we would remedy the situation." He looked at Harry. "Did you eat today?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Toast and tea this morning."

"Right. So you’re to eat that." He pointed to the bag, which was now emitting a delicious scent. "I will not be accused of outshining you at skating simply because you’d weakened yourself before our outing."

"But—"

"Just eat, Potter. We won’t keep you any longer. When do you think you’ll be done?"

Harry, despite feeling rather perplexed at this odd turn of events, didn’t have time to figure out what was going on, so he just went along. "Briefing in a quarter of an hour. Can’t imagine it’ll take longer than twenty or thirty minutes."

"Perfect. Young Theodore and I will find something to occupy our time for the next hour." He turned to Teddy. "We can get that item we were discussing for Christmas." He returned his gaze to Harry. "Shall we meet you back here or at the ice rink in an hour?"

Harry grinned at the surreal nature of the situation. Draco Malfoy bringing him dinner at the office. If he didn’t have to meet with Robards, he’d have spent time dwelling on it, but since he didn’t have the luxury of time, he just answered. "Best come back here, if you don’t mind. That way, if I’m longer than I expect with Robards, you won’t be waiting in the cold for me."

"You _won’t_ be long, will you?" Teddy asked.

"No, sir. Not if I can help it. As soon as I’m done, we will go skating, as planned."

"Eat up, Potter. I expect you to keep up."

Harry chuckled. "Will do." 

"Come on, you," Malfoy said to Teddy, guiding him out the door. "We have shopping to do."

As they reached the doorway, Harry belated said, "Thanks, Malfoy."

Malfoy waved away his thanks and was gone.

***

Precisely one hour later, the three of them were on their way to the ice rink. When they arrived, Harry knew it had been the right decision to come on a weeknight, despite having been delayed at work. The rink was pleasantly open, with enough people present to go relatively unnoticed, but empty enough to allow freedom of movement, rather than the sometimes boring follow-the-crowd flow around the rink. And with the sun gone for the night and the mix of Christmas and office lights on in the background, it was a perfect setting.

Malfoy, as it turned out, hadn’t been lying. He was very good on skates. But Harry, as luck would have it, was also rather adept on the ice. The two of them skated circles around Teddy, much to his amusement, and did weaves and bobs on request from him, his vibrant hair morphing through a rainbow of colours mostly hidden underneath his hat as he laughed at their antics.

"Harry! Draco! Teddy!" Luna’s voice called as they skated off for a hot chocolate break. "Fancy seeing you three here."

Harry and Draco both rolled their eyes as Teddy dove in for a hug. "Hi, Luna! What are you doing here? Are you going to skate with us?"

"Oh, no," she said. "But I am going to get a hot chocolate. Would you like to join me?" She turned to Harry and Malfoy. "I can do this if you two want to continue skating."

Harry snorted. Malfoy said, "Subtle, Lovegood."

"I’m sure I don’t know what you mean," she replied with a less than convincing pout.

" _Everyone_ knows what you mean. Even Potter here."

"Hey!"

"Let’s go, Teddy. They can talk about whatever Draco means while we get a hot chocolate, shall we?"

She left with Teddy dragging her towards the concession stand.

"So she just happened to be here," Harry began.

"After orchestrating this whole thing to begin with," added Malfoy.

"So, for the record, I wasn’t the only one feeling manoeuvred into conversations with you last night?" 

Malfoy chuckled. "I think Weasel and Weaselette were the only two uninvolved."

"To be fair, Ron was probably just oblivious."

"No doubt." Malfoy looked back at the ice. "So shall we stand here getting cold, or go back out there?"

"I’m torn between being not wanting to be a pawn in Luna’s game and genuinely wanting to beat your arse."

Malfoy snorted. "No contest, then. You could never resist a challenge." And he took off onto the ice, leaving Harry to catch up.

As Harry worked to catch up, he had a fine view of Malfoy ahead of him. A very fine view. And all at once, he didn’t give a damn about what had got him here. In fact, if things worked out the way he was beginning to hope they would, he might have to thank Luna for her interference.

But for now, as he whizzed past Malfoy and said, "Cheater," Harry had a competition to win.  



	18. Chapter 18

Harry stepped off the ice followed by Malfoy, both slightly out of breath after their antics. He noticed Teddy was no longer wearing his skates. "No more skating for you?" he asked.

"My toes were numb, so we took them back." He grinned at Draco then looked back at Harry. "You two are crazy!" 

"You should see them when they’re playing Quidditch," Luna said.

Teddy looked at Malfoy and Harry in awe. "You play Quidditch together?"

Harry laughed. " _Against each other_ is more like it, but yes."

"That was a long time ago," Malfoy said. "Another lifetime."

Before Harry could get caught up in memories, Teddy said, "You should do it again."

"It’s a sight to see, that’s for sure," Luna said dreamily. Harry recalled their Gryffindor/Slytherin games back at school and doubted he’d use such an airy tone to describe those matches. Bloody dangerous, they had been. "Especially your Uncle Harry and Draco here. They were the best flyers in school."

"Wow!" Teddy looked at them both with wide, twinkling eyes. "Now you _have_ to play a game. I want to see the best flyers from Hogwarts."

"You do realise we aren’t seventeen years old anymore, yes?" Malfoy said. He shot Luna a pointed look. "We may not be quite up to the hype."

"Up to the what?"

"What he means," Harry said in a long-suffering tone, "is that he doesn’t think he’s good enough to fly against me anymore." Luna laughed and Harry realised he’d been roped in yet again.

"You really are too easy." Malfoy chuckled. "It’s rather sad. Maybe even a little bit pathetic."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy. "Perhaps, but I don’t hear you disputing what I said."

Malfoy closed the distance between them, jabbing a finger into Harry’s chest. "I’ll take you on anywhere, Potter. On land, in the air, on ice, hell, even in water. Anywhere. Anytime." A rush of energy coursed through Harry like he hadn’t felt in years, and when he caught the spark in Malfoy’s eyes he wondered if his own reflected the same.

Teddy’s giggles brought them back. "You two are funny."

"They were always like this in school, too," Luna said. Then she whispered, "They attracted a lot of attention."

Harry made the mistake of looking at Malfoy again and the two of them barely contained their own laughter. They had made rather a spectacle of themselves in school from time to time, hadn’t they? Harry cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I’d like to think we’ve matured since then."

Luna smiled widely. "I’m sure you have."

"Quite," Malfoy said, crossing his arms over his chest, then losing all dignity as he wobbled on his blades. He caught the boards to steady himself. "Theodore, what say you?" At Teddy’s bewildered expression, he added, "Which of us won the night? Who dazzled and impressed you more with his prowess on the ice?"

Teddy giggled some more and Harry had to hold back not to join him. Malfoy sounded like he’d been plucked right out of Medieval times. He wiped the ice from his blades as he balanced on the boards, trying to look nonchalant. "Yes, do tell." 

Luna leaned down and stage-whispered in Teddy’s ear. "Shall we consult on the matter, good sir?"

Teddy nodded, still chuckling, and they stepped away and put their heads together to ‘consult’. After a time, they returned. "We have reached our conclusion," Teddy said with a deep voice and a very nearly straight face.

"What say you?" Malfoy asked again.

"We have concluded," Luna said, looking at Teddy and receiving a nod of encouragement before looking first at Malfoy, then at Harry, "that you have _both_ performed admirably on this fine evening."

"A tie?" Harry said with disgust.

"A tie?" Malfoy echoed.

"A tie," Teddy repeated.

"And as such, we humbly request ..."

"A rematch!" Teddy blurted out, quite pleased with himself.

Harry turned to Malfoy. "Do you get the feeling--"

"—that we’re being hoodwinked?" Malfoy finished for him.

They both looked at Luna and said together, "Again." The whole thing reminded Harry sharply of the twins.

"But it’ll be fun," Teddy said in a slightly whiny voice. "Didn’t you have fun tonight?"

Harry had enjoyed himself. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He put a hand on Teddy’s shoulder. "I had a great time tonight," he said. "But we don’t always have to compete, you know."

"Speak for yourself," Malfoy said. Then he leaned down to say to Teddy, "He’s just afraid I’ll win."

And just like that, Harry was roped into another day of skating on some unknown future date. With Malfoy. "Alright, everyone, now that we’ve established that Malfoy and I may not have matured quite as much as we’d like others to believe, how about we top off the evening with a hot beverage at my place?"

"Ooh, I’d like that!" Luna said. "I don’t suppose you’d make your mulled wine, would you?"

Harry grinned. "I think I can manage that. I’ve a late start to the day tomorrow." He did a mental calculation and said, "But I’ll need to pick up some oranges."

"No need," Luna said. "I have some at home. I’ll go home first, then meet you."

"Rolf’s welcome too," Harry said.

"An impromptu party!" Luna smiled. "How lovely. But I’m sorry to say that Rolf has plans tonight, so it’ll just be me."

"Okay, we’ll see you there." He turned to Malfoy. "You’re coming, yeah?"

"I am?" He looked a bit shell-shocked at the idea.

"Please?" Teddy begged. Harry wondered how much of that was Luna’s doing, but said nothing.

"Come on, Malfoy. It’s the least I can do after you bought me dinner."

He gave Harry a quizzical look – to see if he was serious, perhaps? – but quickly recovered. "I suppose it would be rude to refuse."

"Indeed it would." Harry winked at Teddy. "And we can’t have that."

"Nope!" Teddy agreed.

***

Back at Harry’s, he threw together the ingredients for the mulled wine while Malfoy listened to a chattering Teddy. Harry grinned, wondering when all the fresh air would kick in and Teddy would pass out.

Luna arrived a short time later, oranges in hand. "Let me wash and slice these for you."

"Thanks."

She washed the oranges and pulled out a cutting board. "You and Draco seem to be getting along well."

Harry rolled his eyes. He was surprised she’d waited this long. "Yes, we’re best mates now. Just don’t tell Ron."

Luna sliced one orange and added it to the pot. She remained standing beside Harry and he could feel her gaze attempting to penetrate his brain. "What?" he asked, trying not to sound irritated.

"Oh, nothing," she said, returning to the cutting board. "It’s just that it’s nice to see you happy again." He glanced at her. "You were so terribly miserable for so long."

"I know." Harry turned back to the pot and stirred the contents, breathing in the clove and cinnamon scented steam. "But I was determined this year to make the most of the season, and I’ve been trying."

"Teddy says you’ve seen quite a bit of him this month."

"Yeah. I want to make the most of Christmas for him too."

She brought the rest of the orange slices over and carefully added them to the pot. "You’re a good godfather, Harry."

"You think so?"

She put a hand to his shoulder. "I know so. And so does everyone else."

Thanks to magic, the concoction was ready to drink in short order. Harry brought the serving bowl and mugs out and placed them on the sideboard in the front room. Luna followed with a mug of mint hot chocolate for Teddy, complete with a candy cane.

"Yum!" Teddy announced after licking some chocolate off the end of the candy cane.

"I second that," Malfoy said after sipping the warm wine.

"Harry makes the best Gluhwein I’ve ever had."

Harry snorted. "And how many others have you tried?"

"That’s entirely beside the point."

"Fair enough." He chuckled. "Thank you."

For the next hour, they played some board games that Luna had brought over, and by the end of that, it appeared that everyone was as confused as he’d been. Nevertheless, he’d won one game, so he’d take that as a positive result for the night. He topped up his own wine and Malfoy’s, but Luna waved him away. "I have work tomorrow."

"And it’s—" Harry looked at the clock "—not even nine, yet." As his brain registered the time, he turned to Teddy. "Nearly time for bed, you."

"Uh-oh." Teddy’s face fell and his hair turned a dull brown.

"What’s wrong?" Harry asked.

"Grandma said I can’t stay tonight, and I forgot to tell you. She said we have an early start tomorrow."

Harry smiled reassuringly. "That’s alright." He put his and Malfoy’s cups on the table. "I can get you home on time."

"Oh, don’t worry about that," Luna said. "I can take him back to Andromeda’s."

Harry frowned. "You don’t have to do that."

"It’s no trouble. I need to get going anyway." She smiled at Teddy." You don’t mind, do you?"

"Nope."

"Luna, really. You don’t have to do that."

"Of course I don’t. But I want to. Besides, it’s just a Floo ride away." She gathered up her coat and gloves along with Teddy’s. "You and Draco can relax and enjoy the rest of the night."

Before he could argue the matter, Teddy had launched himself at Harry. He picked up his godson and swung him around before giving him a big hug. "I’ll see you later, little man. Thanks for coming skating with me today."

Teddy gave Malfoy a hug too, then allowed Luna to help him on with his coat. "Bye, Uncle Harry. Bye, Draco. Thanks for taking me skating."

"You’re welcome," they replied together.

Luna grinned at them and tossed some Floo powder into the grate. And in a whoosh of green flames, they were gone.

He turned around to see Malfoy staring down into his cup. "That woman isn’t fooling anyone," Harry said. 

"No, she’s not."

"If I were more paranoid," Harry thought out loud, "I’d say she’d enlisted Teddy in her plan too."

Malfoy looked up at Harry, then put his cup on the table. "I should go."

"What?"

"Thanks for inviting me over. I had a nice evening. But we both have work tomorrow."

"And, as I believe I just said, it’s only nine o’clock."

Look, Potter, I appreciate you playing along with whatever notion Luna has cooked up in her head, but really, there’s no need --" He stood up.

"Sit down, Malfoy." He hadn’t meant to imply ... "Look, just because Luna has an agenda – which clearly she does – that doesn’t mean you have to leave." Malfoy narrowed his eyes but said nothing in response. "I had fun tonight. And not just with Teddy and Luna." He ran his hand over the back of his neck. "As improbable as this may sound, I don’t hate you."

"I did think we’d moved past that, too."

"Right." Harry wasn’t sure how to continue without sounding ridiculous. "So sit back, relax and drink your wine." He motioned to the sideboard. "I made a whole pot of this stuff, and I’m not going to finish it off on my own."

"You’re sure?"

"Malfoy, when have I ever done something I didn’t want to do?"

Malfoy considered him for a long while before answering. "I’m not sure I know the answer to that."

"Well then, you’ll just have to trust me when I say it doesn’t happen very often. And if I didn’t want you in my house, I would never have invited you over, no matter how much nudging and manipulation Luna pulled."

Hesitantly, Malfoy said, "Okay."

"Good. That’s settled. Now put up your feet—" He nudged the ottoman towards Malfoy "—and drink up. There’s still half a pot to go." When Malfoy did just that, Harry looked at his feet and laughed. "Love the socks."

Malfoy’s cheeks reddened. "They’re warm," he said defensively. "And they were a gift from—"

"Luna." Harry finished for him. He plunked himself down on the sofa next to Malfoy and put his own feet on the ottoman. "She got me a pair too."

Malfoy’s shoulders shook. "Not an exact match."

"But pretty close." Harry laughed some more before raising his cup. "Happy Christmas, Malfoy."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but clinked cups with Harry anyway. "Happy Christmas, Potter."

They sat like that for a while, quietly staring into the fire. Harry knew he should move – there was a whole room full of furniture, after all – but he found himself quite comfortable. Besides, Malfoy didn’t seem inclined to get up either. "You’re alright, Malfoy."

Malfoy chuckled. "You’re drunk."

Harry held up his mug. "Not yet, but I’m working on it."

"Let me help you with that," Malfoy said, grabbing Harry’s cup. Then, rather than getting up as Harry had expected him to, he flicked his wand and the bowl sailed across the room and onto the coffee table in front of them. Malfoy filled both of their cups and lounged back once more, returning his feet to the ottoman beside Harry’s. He wiggled his toes. "She really is determined, isn’t she?"

Harry sipped his wine. "She said she always thought it was inevitable that we’d become friends."

"Always? The two of us?" he said incredulously. "Where was she in school?"

Harry shrugged. "I don’t know where she gets her ideas, but when it comes to people she’s close to, she tends to be right."

"Be that as it may, I don’t think _friends_ is what she has in mind for us."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, she thinks we’d make a handsome couple."

Malfoy sat up. "She said that?"

Harry nodded. "Yup."

"Huh." Malfoy let that settle for a bit. "True as that may be, I can’t believe she told you that."

"Yeah, Luna often just blurts out what she thinks," Harry said. Then Malfoy’s words sunk in. "Wait. You think we’d make a handsome couple?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Potter. Give me a break. You have eyes and a mirror. Of course we would." Harry gaped at Malfoy. "Oh, come on. She has a point. Take me for instance. I’m attractive in a sophisticated, refined way, exuding culture and taste. And you’ve certainly grown out of your scrawny school days. You’re hot in that tough, take on the world way, dripping with masculinity. Admit it. We’d turn heads everywhere we went together."

He’d said all of this in such a matter-of-fact way that Harry was rendered speechless. He stared, dumbfounded, at Malfoy for a while. He couldn’t objectively argue about Malfoy’s assessment of himself. He was attractive, Harry could admit. And refined. The pointy kid from school had filled out just enough to soften the rough edges while still retaining the sharpness of features that matched his personality. But Harry? He was just _Harry_. 

He sat up and split the last of the wine between them, wondering when they’d managed to drink it all, still unable to respond to Malfoy’s pronouncement. Malfoy gulped back the last of his wine without a word and Harry did the same before reclining again, feet on the ottoman, head resting on the back of the sofa, and stared up at the ceiling. The events of the day ran through his mind and he smiled. He’d had a really good day.

"I can’t believe you brought me dinner." His head lolled to the side and he looked at Malfoy. His head also rested on the sofa back and his eyes were closed. Harry couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought the other man might be asleep. He grinned. "Who knew you could be so ... sweet."

Malfoy’s head lolled lazily towards Harry and he squinted. "Did you just call me sweet?"

"Shh." Harry patted him on the arm. "I promise I won’t tell anyone."  



	19. Chapter 19

Harry woke to the realisation that he wasn’t in his bed. Heavy headed, he squeezed his eyes more tightly closed in an attempt to recapture his fading dream and fall back into slumber. But his body was having none of that. Consciousness fought against his attempts and the evening’s events became more clear as he approached complete wakefulness.

Wisps of soft hair tickled his nose and something moved under him. Reflexively, he closed his arm around it more tightly. 

_Wait, what?_

Trying not to nudge the body lying beside him, Harry tried to relax while last night’s events replayed in his mind. _Surely not._

He dared to open one eye a sliver to see if his suspicions were true. _Oh, shit._ They were. His eyes wide and now fully awake, Harry looked down at the sleeping form of Malfoy. His forehead was crinkled as though fighting to stay asleep. Harry smiled. He looked so peaceful. Harry brushed Malfoy’s hair from where it hung over his eye and, before he could stop himself, smoothed the wrinkles from between his brows.

Malfoy’s lids fluttered but didn’t open. "What are you doing?"

Harry froze and immediately wondered the same thing. "Er ..."

Malfoy’s lips twitched and he stretched beneath Harry, who still, inexplicably, still had his arm – and leg, ohmygod – draped over the man. "Did we ... how ...?"

Malfoy’s body shook in amusement. "Articulate as ever. It seems that all that fresh air and exercise were too much for us. Add some mulled wine into the mix, and we party animals fell asleep on the sofa."

That sounded right. He hadn’t had _that_ much to drink that he’d forget the events of the night before. And they were still fully clothed, so there was that.

Malfoy cleared his throat, interrupting Harry’s thoughts. "I do have to say I hadn’t expected you to be such a cuddler."

Harry’s face burned. "I ... no ... I didn’t. You’re having me on."

Malfoy’s brows shot up as he looked down at where Harry remained draped over him. Harry quickly pulled away and sat up, at once missing the warmth. "I assure you, I’m not," Malfoy said, clearly bemused by Harry’s discomfort. "As a matter of fact, I woke up in the middle of the night and attempted to extricate myself only to have you tighten your grip. I rather thought it was in my best interest to stay put, so I did."

"Oh, God." Harry dropped his face into his hands, utterly mortified. "I’m so sorry."

Malfoy chuckled. "It’s no problem. Once I relaxed, so did you." Harry peeked through his fingers hopefully. "Of course that meant curling up behind me, settling in for the night."

"Ugh," Harry said, flopping his head on the back of the sofa and staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

Malfoy laughed heartily now. "Relax, Potter. You promised not to tell anyone I’m – how did you put it? Ah, yes ... _sweet_. I shall return the favour and not tell anyone that their favourite big, bad, tough Auror likes to cuddle."

Harry glared at him then.

"There now. That’s more like the Potter I know."

Harry ran his hand nervously over the hair at the back of his neck. "I really am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

Malfoy grinned. "I know you are. But, honestly, you’re rather comfortable to sleep with." He smirked. "Who knew?"

Harry couldn’t look him in the eye, no matter how much he wanted to. Wanted to see if he was teasing Harry in a playful or less gracious way. Because, if Harry were honest with himself, he would love nothing more than to curl up beside this snarky man and have a bit of a lie-in. Instead, he disentangled himself from his current position and stood up. "Right. Tea. Be right back." 

Harry put the kettle on, put tea in the pot and grabbed some biscuits. His stomach growled. Biscuits would not cut it. And it would be rude to ... "Malfoy!"

"Yes?" Harry nearly jumped. Malfoy had snuck up on him and was just inside the kitchen, leaning against the door frame, arms across his chest and smirking at Harry. "You called?"

"Jesus! Don’t sneak up on a guy like that."

Malfoy chuckled. "Oh, if I snuck up on you, you’d know it." He pushed himself off the doorjamb, casual as you please, and strutted – yes, strutted – into Harry’s kitchen.

"I can see you’re enjoying yourself," Harry accused.

Malfoy shrugged. "Why shouldn’t I?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right. I’m starving. Feel like having some eggs and bacon?"

His smirk became more pronounced. "Are you offering to make me breakfast now?"

Harry motioned to the table. This banter was actually helping him feel less awkward. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. You’re a guest in my home, I’m starving, and it would be terribly rude not to, don’t you think?"

Malfoy chuckled – he seemed to be doing a lot of that at Harry’s expense these days – and sat down. "Oh, I couldn’t agree more."

Harry pulled out a pan and threw in some bacon, then turned his attention to the tea, acutely aware of Malfoy’s gaze. Once the bacon was happily sizzling, he pulled some plates and cutlery from the cupboards and brought them over to the table.

Still smirking, Malfoy asked, "Do you need any help with that?"

"Not really, but if you want to get the milk and sugar and pour the tea, that would be great."

Expecting some snide remark about making a guest work for his meal, Harry was surprised when Malfoy said, "Sure," got up and busied himself first finding and then filling two mugs. Harry wondered if he should feel uncomfortable with this situation, but oddly it felt ... right. Natural.

They ate in awkward silence, Harry avoiding Malfoy’s look and just concentrating on food intake. Without asking, when he was done, Malfoy poured a second cup of tea for both of them. "So tell me, Potter, are you always this nervous the morning after?"

"The morning after ... but we didn’t ... " Once again, he felt the burn of blood rushing to his cheeks. Damn it.

Malfoy laughed. Despite it being at his own expense, Harry found he liked the sound. "No, we didn’t." Malfoy stared directly into Harry’s eyes. It was unnerving. "But you’re acting as if we did."

Harry caught himself before once more rubbing the back of his neck. "I never meant to make you uncomfortable."

"So you’ve said." Again, he stared unblinkingly at Harry. "And I believe you."

"Still, you couldn’t leave ..."

Malfoy snorted. "Do you believe, for even a minute, that I couldn’t have done _something_ to extract myself?" At Harry’s confused look, he continued. "Something as simple as wake you up, perhaps? Tell you I was leaving? It wouldn’t have been that difficult to do since I doubt very much you were passed out drunk on the amount of wine we had."

"No." Harry narrowed his eyes, perhaps hoping that might help him glean meaning from what Malfoy was saying. "Then why didn’t you?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I don’t know, really. I suppose since we’ve always been so antagonistic toward one another, I decided to enjoy the moment."

Harry snorted. "You know what, that sounds just strange enough to be believed."

"Besides," Malfoy said, smirk back on his face. "You’d just told me I was _sweet_. I couldn’t very well burst your bubble and wake you when you looked so content, now, could I?"

"Well, you could have, but I agree, it would not have been very sweet." Harry leaned across the table towards Malfoy, a snippet of conversation from the prior night coming to the forefront of his mind. "And while we’re rehashing what was said last night, as I recall, you told me I was hot." 

Malfoy tilted his head in that way he had when considering something interesting (how exactly Harry knew that, he wasn’t entirely sure). "That I did." Far from throwing him off his guard, Malfoy seemed more emboldened by the statement. "So, back to my original question. You’re not usually nervous the morning after, then? It’s just because you thought you’d kept me here against my will?"

"Something like that," Harry said, feeling ridiculous all over again. Then he thought about the whole situation: running into Malfoy in Diagon, how great he was with Teddy, the impromptu snowball fight at Andromeda’s, what he’d learned about Malfoy at Luna’s party, skating the night before, and Luna’s insistence that they’d make a good couple. Handsome couple. She’d said nothing about them being a _good_ couple. But, a voice in his head that sounded vaguely like Hermione’s reminded him that they had been getting along. And Malfoy had bought him dinner. And had been nice to him. And had called him hot. And – Harry was still trying to wrap his head around this one – he’d spent the night in Harry’s arms. He looked up and caught Malfoy watching him. "What?"

"Where did you go just now?"

Harry blinked. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"Ah, that’s what that looks like. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed that before."

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"I am, you know."

Harry scrutinised him and saw, just below the surface, a hint of a challenge. Like he was daring Harry to deny it. "I’m beginning to see that." And just like that, Malfoy was thrown off guard. Chalk one up for honesty. "Now what were you asking? Oh, right. Morning after. To tell you the truth, I don’t really do ... casual," Harry said.

"Colour me surprised," Malfoy deadpanned.

Harry shrugged. "Random sex with strangers never really held any appeal for me."

"As much of a shock as this may come to you, I don’t do casual either. Well, not for a very long time I haven’t. To be honest, it was never really my thing." 

"Exactly." Harry nodded. "I suppose I’d just rather ..."

"Cuddle?" 

Harry shot him a look, but it had no effect. "I was going to say that I’d just rather wait for someone I care about. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t have to be love, but at least someone that I could make a go of it with, you know?"

Malfoy got up and closed the distance between them, stopping in front of Harry and lifting Harry’s chin with a finger to look directly into his eyes. "That sounds ... sweet." Then he leaned down and brushed their lips together so softly Harry wondered if he’d imagined it. But then he did it again. And again. All the while looking straight into Harry’s eyes. He nibbled Harry’s lower lip playfully as he pulled away.

When Malfoy stood straight up again, Harry’s heart was racing. He touched his lips and said, "That was ... unexpected."

"Really, Potter? Unexpected?" His face fell almost imperceptibly but Harry saw the change. "Right. Well then. I should go. We both have work today. Thanks for the breakfast." 

He made to leave the room, but Harry managed to catch him by the arm. "Wait." He stood up and turned Malfoy to face him. "Hey. I said unexpected, not unwanted." Malfoy’s expression softened but a slight scowl remained. Harry ran his thumb over the creases between his brows and they vanished. "You just caught me off-guard is all."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘oblivious’.

Harry chuckled. "Shall we try that again?" Malfoy stood watching Harry, unmoving. Harry ran his fingers through the soft blond hair and cupped Malfoy’s cheeks in his palms, staring into the grey eyes that weren’t nearly as cold as he’d always thought. They had warm flecks of gold and, when not piercing Harry with an angry stare, drew him into their depths. 

He pressed a series of soft kisses from one corner of Malfoy’s lips to the other, then retraced his path with a sweep of his tongue, eliciting a soft moan from Malfoy. He definitely wanted to hear that again. When Malfoy’s lips parted, Harry pressed his tongue inside softly, meeting Draco’s. Harry’s heart raced and he was sure Malfoy could feel it even if he couldn’t hear it. Then Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and drew their bodies together.

Their tongues played, wrapping around each other, and Harry found himself falling. Why had they spent so many years fighting when they could have been doing this? Draco’s biting tongue turned out to be sweeter than Harry would have thought possible. They explored each other’s mouths possessively and Harry wanted more. Wanted all of him. Had never wanted anything so much in his life. When Malfoy’s hands trailed down his back and settled on his arse, he groaned with need. Harry returned the favour, pulling their bodies even closer together. When Malfoy’s cock rubbed against his own, he was lost.

Malfoy marched them, still kissing, into the front room and pushed Harry down onto the sofa. Their separation was brief enough that Harry didn’t have a chance to complain before Draco climbed on top of him, pouring his gorgeous body over Harry’s. There were too many clothes in the way. He wanted nothing between them. Skin on skin. He wanted to run his hands and his mouth over every part of Malfoy’s body. Right. Now.

A distant buzzing reached his ears but he ignored it, focussed on one thing only. He tried to form coherent thought, but it escaped him. All he wanted was Malfoy. Fuck, that tongue was amazing when it wasn’t spiting insults Harry’s way. Malfoy lifted Harry’s shirt and licked a line from navel to nipple. When he bit down gently, Harry arched into it. Malfoy chuckled. "Sensitive nipples. Duly noted." Then he pulled one into his mouth and sucked. Harry’s cock throbbed and he groaned with delight. Malfoy hummed his approval before switching his attention to the other, drawing a similar reaction from Harry.

Malfoy licked a trail back to Harry’s navel before plunging in. "Fuck!" Harry bucked. "God, Malfoy, that tongue of yours will be the death of me."

"Not quite what I had in mind," he said, pulling Harry’s shirt back down and crawling up Harry’s body so slowly Harry thought he would scream. He nibbled along Harry’s jawline but just as he reached his mouth, he stopped. "What is that incessant noise?"

Harry’s head throbbed and his cock protested this cessation of Malfoy’s progress. Taking deep breaths, he cleared his head and listened. The familiar tone finally broke through his addled brain and he cursed. "Shit. It’s my alarm for work."

Malfoy began to lift himself off Harry, but Harry caught him. "Where do you think you’re going?"

"You have to go to work." He looked sternly at Harry who pointedly glared back and lifted his groin to bring their erections back into contact. "Oh, no, you don’t," Malfoy chastised, even as he moaned with pleasure. "I will not be responsible for the future Head Auror being late for work."

Harry whimpered. But in a very manly way. Malfoy chuckled. "Technically, I don’t have to be there for another half hour."

"Stop whining," Malfoy said, lifting his body free of Harry’s. Harry resisted the urge to pout. "And don’t pout." Okay, maybe that hadn’t gone to plan. "I intend to spend a lot more than half an hour discovering all your weak spots, Potter."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"Definitely." He reached a hand out and Harry took it, barely resisting the urge to pull him back down again. "We’ve waited this long."

Harry stood uneasily on shaky legs. "Fair enough, but –"

"After all this time, I am not willing to settle for some quick shag before work." Now Harry gave a full-on pout. Malfoy ignored him. "That can come later. Our first time I want to savour."

What was Harry supposed to say to that? Apparently ‘okay’ was his only option, so he bade Malfoy farewell and marched himself into the bathroom for a highly unsatisfying shower.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was washed and dressed and – after some nasty visualisations – presentable for work when he heard a tapping at the window. He opened it to grant entry to a very familiar eagle owl. He gave the owl a treat and removed the note. 

Harry’s body reacted predictably to the picture that put in his mind, and he had to give himself a little extra time before leaving for work.

As his day muddled on, Harry reflected on this time last year and how much better this year was turning out to be, certainly far better than he ever would have dared to imagine. He touched a finger to his lips, the taste of Malfoy still lingering, taunting. As he replayed the morning in his mind, he smiled and hoped that this would be the first of many Christmases they would spend together.  



	20. Chapter 20

Back at Grimmauld after a long and less than productive day, Harry’s mind continued its battle. What am I doing? What are we doing? We’ve hated each other for years. Hate is a strong word. But we did. But that’s because you didn’t know each other. We knew what side we were on. But you were both manipulated by those closest to you. This can’t work. Why not? It’s bound to end in disaster. Why couldn’t it end in something glorious? We’re too different. Perhaps you’re just too much alike and you can’t see that. 

Harry’s head hurt. He needed a pint. No, he didn’t. What he needed was a clear head. Tea. Tea was always good. Tea made everything better.

He made a pot, then sat down while it steeped. His mind, quite unhelpfully, kept replaying the morning’s events. The taste, the smell, the feel of Malfoy was all around him, closing in, threatening to suffocate him. But he’d gladly take it. What was breathing when he could have that?

Fuck. He was losing it. It had been so long. He was overcome with lust. That must be it. That and Luna’s attempts at getting them together playing with his thoughts. Why was that anyway? What did she think was so great about the prospect of Harry and Malfoy being together? Was it that they were the only gay men she knew? She was friends with both of them and, therefore, thought they’d work out, despite their long and combative history? And because they’d look good together?

None of that was good enough to base a relationship on. And Harry had been serious when he’d told Malfoy he didn’t do casual. He’d been out of his mind this morning. That was the only explanation.

His thoughts, jumbled as they had become, were interrupted by a tapping at the window. The same eagle owl from earlier waited patiently as Harry wondered what the note might say and how he would respond. Realising that there was no better way to find out than opening the window, he let it in and gave it a treat. He retrieved the letter and this time the owl remained. So ... a response was required.

 _"Potter, dinner at seven. RSVP. DM"_ An address completed the note. Dinner Harry could do. And if he kept his wits about him, he could sort this out. He’d just have to keep his libido in check. He closed his eyes, immediately relived the morning and groaned. That might be a tall order, especially once he was in Malfoy’s proximity. Scribbling his response in the affirmative, he attached the note to the owl’s leg, gave it another treat and sent it off. He looked at the clock. He had an hour. Right. Shower.

Fifty eight minutes later, Harry stood poised to apparate, willing his heart to stop racing. What was his problem? He was a senior Auror and had faced down Voldemort for god’s sake. He’d faced down Malfoy countless times before that. So why was he such a mess right now? Because, much as he didn’t want to admit it, this mattered. Though he’d been a part of Harry’s life for years – his entire life as a wizard – Malfoy had never before held such a position of importance. Yes, he’d been a key figure in Harry’s life, but never part of his inner circle. Never someone he’d allowed inside. But now he had. He groaned again. He was so screwed.

The neighbourhood was all magical, so he apparated directly in front of the house and rang the doorbell. Malfoy answered and Harry nearly lost it on the spot. His hair hung loosely, wisps grazing his eyes, and Harry’s fingers itched to run through the soft strands again. Fuck, this was a mistake. He hadn’t even stepped inside yet.

"Are you coming inside, or what?" Malfoy asked.

"Sorry. Yeah." As soon as he crossed the threshold, a most wonderful aroma invaded his nostrils and his mouth began to water. "Whatever you’re making smells delicious."

Malfoy smiled. "Veal parmesan. Comfort food and easy to make."

Harry followed him into the kitchen. "My kind of meal."

"Red or white?" Malfoy asked, holding up two bottles of wine. 

Harry held up a hand. "Neither right now, thanks." When Malfoy put down the bottles, he said, "I was hoping we could talk, and I think I’d like to keep a clear head."

"Talk, hmm? I’m not sure if I like the sounds of that."

Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck, then pulled it away quickly. He really needed to stop doing that. "I mean, what are we doing?"

"I thought we were having dinner."

"You know what I mean. This morning ..."

He turned around, filled a pot with water and placed it on the stove. With a wave of his wand, a flame blazed beneath it. He turned back to face Harry. "Am I going to regret leaving?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe?"

"No good deed goes unpunished, I suppose." He sighed. "Look, you didn’t seem bothered by what happened earlier – quite the opposite, in fact – and as I recall, neither of us was under the influence of alcohol."

"I know. It’s just that I meant what I said about the casual thing."

"As did I." He turned back to the stove and added some pasta to the pot before returning his attention to Harry. "And, even if it were a one-time thing, if it didn’t go any further, do you really think it would be _casual_?

Harry thought about that and shook his head. "At this point, given our past, no. But I still want to be sure we’re going in with eyes wide open."

"How could we be doing anything but that?" Malfoy reasoned, giving a stir to the pot before continuing. "We’ve known each other for fifteen years, give or take. I think we ought to know more than most going in."

"Fair point. But are we doing the right thing? Could we really make a go of this or are we just kidding ourselves?" Harry didn’t really know what Malfoy’s expectations were, but if this morning’s reaction was anything to go on, Harry was already falling. "I mean Luna thinks this would work, but why is that? Is it because we’re the only gay friends she has and she’d like to see us together?"

"You may have a point there, but this isn’t about Luna. It’s about us. You’ve heard her point out lots of things we have in common that have nothing to do with her, and without the threat of war hanging over our heads, we do seem to get along. Besides, we aren’t the same people we were in school."

"Thank god for that."

Malfoy laughed. "Indeed." He stirred the pasta again and turned off the oven. His expression turned serious as he said, "I have changed, you know."

Harry nodded. "I do know. And I have too."

"We have our history in common."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "That’s just what I mean. Look at our history. We hated each other."

"Hate might be a bit strong."

"You tried to throw a Cruciatus curse at me and I nearly killed you in return."

"Yes, well ... not one of our stellar moments."

"Not – what?" Harry stood up and walked around the counter. Putting his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders, he stared into his eyes. "I sliced you open without even thinking about it. I was so stupid and you nearly _died_ because of it."

"But I didn’t. As you said, I was about to Crucio you and you just reacted."

"I didn’t even know what the spell did. Who does that?"

"A scared kid, I’d imagine. Besides, I forgave you for that a long time ago."

Harry let go and stared at the ground. "There was so much blood."

Malfoy lifted Harry’s hands and placed them on his chest. "That happened a lifetime ago. And I’m very much alive. See? And that is thanks to you, I might add. You did save my life, you know, in case that fact has slipped your memory." He let Harry’s hands drop and turned back to the pasta. "And if you don’t mind, could we pick a less gruesome conversation to have while we eat?"

"Sure, sorry." They brought the food to the table and sat down. Harry inhaled and said, "I love Italian food."

"Full disclosure, Luna may have mentioned that in passing."

Harry chuckled. "Of course she did."

Malfoy grinned. "She really is determined, you know."

Harry helped himself to pasta. "I know. And there’s no denying that there’s something between us."

"Always has been, really," Malfoy added as he dished them both out some veal and sauce. "We just channelled it differently as kids."

"That’s one way to put it." But he was right. Harry took a mouthful of the veal and layers of flavour exploded in his mouth. Comfort food this may be, but it was amazing. "Mm," he moaned. "Malfoy, you are a culinary genius."

Malfoy laughed. "I wouldn’t go that far, and this is virtually foolproof, but I’ll take the compliment nonetheless."

"Seriously, this sauce is impressive."

"Family recipe."

"Malfoy or Black side?"

"House-elf side."

Harry snorted. "I can’t get Kreacher to share any recipes with me. He just says if I want it, I need only ask."

"I didn’t know you had a house-elf. I didn’t see him."

"Well, that’s the sign of a good elf, isn’t it?"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "You’re having me on, aren’t you? Granger would string you up if she heard you say that."

"That she would." Harry sniggered. "Truth is Kreacher works at Hogwarts most of the year. I just call him back when I have a party or a special event to prepare for."

They ate in silence for a while before Malfoy said, "So, back on topic, minus the war stories. What do you want in a partner? Someone who challenges you or worships you?"

"Ugh, I’ve had enough blind worship for several lifetimes, thanks."

"Right. So what went wrong in your other relationships? What wouldn’t you want to repeat?"

Harry coughed. "You mean besides the wrong equipment?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, beyond the obvious."

"Well, I’ve never had a relationship with a man. And I was with Ginny, off and on since school." He looked longingly at the unopened bottle of wine on the counter and suddenly wished he hadn’t refused it. This was harder than he’d expected. Give the man credit, Malfoy hadn’t visibly reacted to Harry’s pronouncements. "And I wouldn’t really call the disaster back in school with Cho a _relationship_ , so there’s not much to go on. One relationship with my best friend’s sister who’d idolised me since she was a kid, but grew up to be her own person. I don’t know what else to say."

"Don’t want to talk about it. Got it." Malfoy smirked. "Do you want kids? Do you like to travel? Do you love your job? Hate your job? Want to take over the world in some evil plot?"

Harry laughed. "Kids? Probably, if it’s possible. I love to travel, but I’ve had enough camping for a lifetime. I love my job most days, but hate the bureaucracy. And no, I have no current plans for world domination. How about you?"

"Let’s see. I like kids well enough, but I think that would be at least a few years down the road, if, as you say, it’s possible. I live to travel and I would never even consider camping. I do love my job, but then I’d have to or I wouldn’t be doing it. And the lack of bureaucracy is just one of the bonuses of being self-employed. And I too have no plans for world domination. That dream died with the unceremonious downfall of the previous Malfoy generation, thanks."

"No complaints from me."

"I should think not, since you were rather instrumental in said downfall."

"Ah, yes, so I was. Speaking of, you do know your father hates me. And I can’t say I hold him in much esteem either – his numerous attempts on my life rather soured me to him. Do you think you could be with someone your father hates?"

Malfoy took his time answering, staring down at where his hands rested on the table. "I have very little respect remaining for my father. He was a foolish man with delusions of grandeur whose actions very nearly lost all of us our lives. I was used as a pawn, as you well know, by a madman as revenge on him. I frankly don’t give a shit what he thinks because his opinion on most things means less than nothing to me these days."

That took Harry by surprise. Malfoy had idolised Lucius in school and had never missed an opportunity to let everyone else know of his father’s importance. Harry knew first hand that once a son’s perfect image of his father is shattered, it can knock the latter off his pedestal, but still. This was a bit more than Harry had expected, even if he agreed. Lucius was a vile human being.

"Don’t look so surprised," Malfoy said, his voice a bit shaky. "Besides, he wouldn’t accept any man in my life. Not the pureblood way, you see."

"Ah."

"That’s not to say it doesn’t happen, but it is done quietly, on the side of a _legitimate_ marriage to a witch, one that will bear at least one heir."

"That’s horrible."

"Yes, well, fortunately I agree with you, or I’d be married by now, and both my wife and I would be utterly miserable, raising children who would eventually see through the farce and also be miserable."

Harry reached across the table and gave Malfoy’s hand a squeeze. "I’m sorry."

Malfoy shrugged. "Water under the bridge. I don’t respect him, he doesn’t respect me and we coexist for the benefit of my mother."

"How does she feel about all this?"

"She is entirely on my side, as she always has been."

"Smart woman."

Malfoy nodded. "But she and my father have been together for a long time. And they do love each other. So she’s stuck in the middle. I try to remain cordial with my father and I don’t bring anyone around to wave in front of his face. Not that there’s been anyone I’ve wanted to bring home anyway, but that’s beside the point. It works for us."

Harry gave his hand another squeeze before releasing it. "How about a glass of that wine now?"

"Fuck, yes," Malfoy said. Harry retrieved the bottle and two glasses and poured them each a generous serving. Harry had barely handed the glass over when Malfoy poured a quarter of the contents down his throat. "Not quite how I’d envisioned this night going."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"No need to apologise. I get it. We have a history together. A not very pleasant one at that. I think this is a conversation we should have." He smiled at Harry, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He took another sip, this time smaller. "I just wasn’t expecting it to be right now."

Harry sipped his wine. "I’m also sorry I didn’t say yes to this wine earlier. It’s delicious."

"One of my favourites." He clinked his glass against Harry’s.

"We don’t have to talk anymore."

"No, it’s fine," he said, taking another sip before putting his glass down and refilling it. "I have alcohol now. I can talk about anything."

"Seriously, we don’t have to."

"I know. But I want to. Then maybe we never have to do this again."

"Okay?"

"So tell me, Potter, why did you pull me out of the fire? Why the hell would you risk your life for the likes of me? I’ve always wondered." He took another swig of wine.

"How could I not? You didn’t deserve to die, certainly not that way." Harry reached over and took his glass away. "Why didn’t you identify me back at the manor?"

"How do you know I recognised you?" Harry gave him a ‘come on’ look. "I suppose it was because you didn’t deserve to die, not that way. Not at his hand."

"Right, so we were both stupid sometimes, but did the right thing when it counted. End of story. And now you’re this highly successful potion maker, an amazing cook, a highly accomplished ice skater – still surprised by that, by the way – and great with kids. Well, with Teddy anyway. Who knew that insufferable kid would turn out to be a pretty great man?"

He grinned. "I’m gorgeous, too. Don’t forget that."

"I could never forget that."

"And you are on track to be the youngest Head Auror ever, poster boy for what’s right and true in this world, not half bad at whipping together breakfast, make a killer mulled wine, and the best kisser I’ve ever encountered."

"Don’t forget hot."

"No chance of that slipping my mind any time soon. So, Potter, what say you?"

It was inevitable that the night would end up this way. Harry wasn’t fooling himself or anyone else. Yes, they’d had to talk things through, but really, what did any of it matter. They were not the same kids they’d been at school. The war was years behind them. And many people had made a go of things on far less than they had. At least they knew what they were in for. Harry stood up, walked over to Malfoy and pulled him up so they were on a level. "Let’s see what that delicious tongue of yours can do."

This time Malfoy’s smile reached his eyes. "I thought you’d never ask." 

Harry finally succumbed to the urge to run his hands through Malfoy’s hair then drew him in for a deep kiss. Their bodies melted together and he was lost once more. Lost in the feel and the taste of Malfoy. And Merlin, the sounds he made when Harry pressed against him, rolling his hips slowly, rubbing their lengths together.

"Bedroom," Malfoy said when they came up for air. He grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him along, stopping only when they reached his bed – a massive four-poster with forest green covers. Harry resisted the urge to make a Slytherin-related remark and found himself shoved back onto the bed. He became suddenly and wholly uninterested in how the rest of the room was adorned as he focussed all his attention on Malfoy unbuttoning his shirt. "Care to join me?" Malfoy asked as Harry continued to stare.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Got distracted." Malfoy grinned. He was gorgeous and he knew it. Harry liked that. Liked it a lot. He made short work of his shirt and tossed it unceremoniously aside, grabbing Malfoy by the arm and pulling him down. Their lips crashed together and Malfoy’s tongue plunged into his waiting mouth. There was nothing gentle or tentative about their kisses now. They screamed passion and Harry couldn’t get enough. Malfoy’s body writhed against Harry’s and Harry let his hands wander, discovering all the places that resulted in Malfoy making those delicious noises.

He reached down and grabbed Malfoy’s arse, pulling him in as he thrust his groin up. Their erections pressed together almost painfully and Harry hissed. "Fuck, you feel so good." He thrust up again and Malfoy moaned. God, Harry could listen to that all day long. "Too many clothes."

Malfoy licked and sucked his way down Harry’s neck and chest, taking his time to pay wonderful attention to each of Harry’s nipples before licking a path down to his navel. He pressed his tongue in and Harry arched in response. Malfoy lifted his head and looked straight at him. Harry was about to beg for more contact when Malfoy licked his lips and began undoing Harry’s trousers.

Harry lifted his hips to help when Malfoy lowered his trousers, but he didn’t take them off. Instead, he traced the outline of Harry’s cock through his briefs, first with kisses pressed to his length, then with his tongue and finally with his teeth. Harry writhed beneath him, desperate for more contact but enjoying the tease. Malfoy finally took pity on him and pulled his pants down as well, finally – finally – trailing his tongue directly over Harry’s length. He grasped Harry’s shaft and lifted it towards his mouth, circling the tip with his tongue. When he dipped the tip of his tongue into Harry’s slit, Harry’s head fell back and he gasped. "Fuck, you have an amazing tongue." Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, he thought that this might be over embarrassingly soon with Malfoy’s tongue at work. 

And then Malfoy’s finger rubbed against his entrance and Harry tensed. "Relax." He was utterly lost to sensation now and he gave in to the feeling. Relaxing, he felt one finger slide in while Malfoy’s mouth and his other hand worked Harry’s shaft until he couldn’t see straight. Then Malfoy’s finger nudged up against something inside and all Harry saw was white. He exploded in Malfoy’s mouth and still Malfoy kept working Harry’s shaft, licking and sucking until Harry’s oversensitised cock could take no more.

His body shook and he grasped at Malfoy’s hair, pulling him gently up for a kiss. He tasted his own essence on Malfoy’s tongue and fuck if that didn’t have his cock twitching in interest all over again. Not that it would be good for anything more for a while, but still. Harry reached between their bodies and grabbed Malfoy’s cock. It was already leaking and it didn’t take long before Malfoy came all over Harry’s stomach. Harry ran a finger through the mess and lifted it to his lips. When he sucked the finger into his mouth, Malfoy’s eyes flashed.

Harry silently called his wand to hand and waved away the mess, and they settled in to sleep, this time Malfoy draped over Harry. He grinned and they drifted off.

When they woke in the middle of the night, they had another go and Harry collapsed afterwards, wondering if he’d ever have the energy to walk again. He did. When Malfoy edged his way out of bed in the morning, he said, "Shower." When Harry nodded, he added, "Coming?"

Harry didn’t need asking twice and jumped out of the bed to join him. Shower sex is not nearly as glamorous as it’s made out to be, but after a few adjustments and a little bit of magical cushioning, they managed just fine. Afterwards, they leisurely lathered each other and managed to emerge very clean, despite all their activities.

Wrapped in towels, they made a pretty amazing picture in the mirror. "So, do you really think we can make this work?" Harry asked hopefully. Because he wanted to.

"Are you kidding? I was all set to try _before_ we had sex. After the night and morning we’ve had, you’ll be really hard pressed to get rid of me."

Harry kissed his neck and breathed in his scent. "Same here. But that can’t be everything, right?"

"No, it can’t. But I’d say it’s not a bad start. Only that’s not where we started, is it? There’s a lot more to build this on than just the sex."

Harry thought about all they’d seen, all they’d done, their shared and separate histories and the way their current paths had crossed. "Yeah, there is."

"So, what are your plans for New Year’s Eve?"

"I hadn’t decided yet." Some of his friends were going to a club and some were going to a house party at George and Angelina’s. Harry hadn’t committed to anything. "But I’d like to ring in the new year with you."

"Works for me."

"You know, we probably should buy Luna a little thank you gift at some point."

Malfoy chuckled. "Probably. But would it be so terrible if we just enjoyed this for a little while, without letting others in? There’ll be plenty of time to tell people later." 

Harry smiled and nibbled his earlobe. Malfoy shuddered. "Sensitive earlobes. Duly noted."

Malfoy laughed. "Seriously, though. Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself for a bit?"

"Be as selfish as you like." He turned Malfoy around and kissed him softly, tasting him all over again. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of kissing this man. "I think it’s a brilliant idea."

When, a few weeks later, Harry walked into George and Angelina’s with Malfoy, they met a wholly unsurprised crowd. When George inquired as to when, precisely, they’d started seeing each other, Malfoy looked puzzled. "A couple of days before Christmas," Harry answered.

George consulted a piece of parchment he had posted to the fridge. "That’ll be Hermione for the win, then." The rest of the room groaned as they passed cash her way.

Harry laughed and whispered into Draco’s ear, "Welcome to the family."

~ FIN ~  



End file.
